When I was in sixth form, I lived with my Grandma
(RIP), cause she lived closer to the school I went to (parents moved away to a wholly new area, see).
She would not let me out at in the evenings past 10pm. On a weekend, that was extended to 11pm.
For context, my parents (with whom I'd lived up til I was 15) let me out at weekend up til about 3am, provided I told them.
Being 17, and entitled to drive at 16 in my country, I had a car and a girlfriend. I was a responsible lad, not drinking and driving or anything, but - well, that car saw some abuse: both mechanical and sexual. You can't take ladies home for a shag when you live with you gran, nor will their parent's think much of you using her bed, and in the wilds of the Irish Sea, outdoors is a bit parky for sex.

Anyway, I had dropped of my girlfriend at her place at about 9.50pm. I was about ten miles from home via winding country roads, the likes of which only the Peak District, Wales and Scotland can mirror. It was a weekday. I had lost track of time while jiggling the car excitedly with my young lass. Ten minutes to get home, ten miles... I needed to average 60 miles an hour in a 1 litre mini... just about possible.
So, dead of night, on country roads, I thrashed it home. Because at times I had to drop down to 30 for the bendy roads, I had to get up to 70 and 80 whenever I could. Past the airport, I floored it on the only piece of dual carriageway on the whole Island.

That's a 40 zone. No-one lives there, but it's a 40 nonetheless. I got followed and stopped.

The police man was very polite. He asked why I was in such a hurry. I told him my granny didn't let me out past ten, and I was going home. He asked where I'd been, and I told him I'd been seeing my girlfriend. He shook his head and told me to get off home while he reported me for my fine.

Arriving home, at half-past ten, my gran had called the police. She was just putting down the phone when I got in. I got my ear chewed, and confessed to being stopped on the way home - so I could blame the police for being late! That didn't help though, she grounded me (a chap legally entitled to marry, drive, buy fags - grounded!).

My mum told me, at my gran's funeral, years later, that she'd pulled the same guilt trick on her when she was that age. Gran waited up, and as mum'd come in late, she'd picked up the phone, said "No, don't worry officer, her she comes now," to the dial tone, and hung up.

So not only was she a strict lady, she was a blagging old bag too! Loved her though.
( no cake for the impuritay Patrick Stewart hasn't aged since, Thu 8 Mar 2007, 14:29, Reply)