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Just so I'm not the only one laughing... (though I am probably the only one still sort of shaking), the story goes something like this:
Day 1: Dad tricks me into sitting in the driver's seat of standard transmission pickup. "Go ahead, put the clutch in," he says to me. I do. Car rolls backwards, nearly hits my sister's car behind it before I realize hey, cars can move when they're not on.
Days 2-5: Avoid truck like plague.
Days 6-7: Intense observation of more proficient driver (Dad) as he magically gets vehicle to move.
Day 8-10: Obtain permission to attempt driving truck. Impeded by weather. Somewhat grateful.
Day 11: Decide that I should do something somewhat productive... Take truck out. Get out of driveway without stalling--minor victory. Make it to side street. Cannot figure out which gear I should be in, as 2nd goes nowhere, and 3rd clunks a lot. Feel vaguely terrified, and embarrassed. Pull into driveway to turn around. Do this without stalling! ... Until in street. Stall twice. Can't find right gear. Not exactly sure if what I'm seeing in the rearview mirror is what's behind me, or something in the back of the truck. Confused neighbourhood cars avoid me like plauge. Hope none of them recognize me, as am laughing at self a bit hysterically. Make it back up road... wonder why 25mph is 3rd gear. Wonder if in third gear. ... Come upon menacing stop sign. Manage to stop and not stall. Obviously in wrong gear, as car is making accellerating noises and not going anywhere. Realize not in wrong gear, but still holding the clutch in. Fear I could've been rolling backwards into the car behind me, who no doubt wonders what on EARTH is up with that crazy chick in the truck in front of them. Let clutch out, finally turn, get first lesson in exactly how people peel out, decide first gear is safest for the fifty feet left before driveway... somehow do better in driveway than I did for the entire previous bit of the trip... which is good, because given the noises I was making that poor truck make, it probably would've woken my father.
Day 1: Dad tricks me into sitting in the driver's seat of standard transmission pickup. "Go ahead, put the clutch in," he says to me. I do. Car rolls backwards, nearly hits my sister's car behind it before I realize hey, cars can move when they're not on.
Days 2-5: Avoid truck like plague.
Days 6-7: Intense observation of more proficient driver (Dad) as he magically gets vehicle to move.
Day 8-10: Obtain permission to attempt driving truck. Impeded by weather. Somewhat grateful.
Day 11: Decide that I should do something somewhat productive... Take truck out. Get out of driveway without stalling--minor victory. Make it to side street. Cannot figure out which gear I should be in, as 2nd goes nowhere, and 3rd clunks a lot. Feel vaguely terrified, and embarrassed. Pull into driveway to turn around. Do this without stalling! ... Until in street. Stall twice. Can't find right gear. Not exactly sure if what I'm seeing in the rearview mirror is what's behind me, or something in the back of the truck. Confused neighbourhood cars avoid me like plauge. Hope none of them recognize me, as am laughing at self a bit hysterically. Make it back up road... wonder why 25mph is 3rd gear. Wonder if in third gear. ... Come upon menacing stop sign. Manage to stop and not stall. Obviously in wrong gear, as car is making accellerating noises and not going anywhere. Realize not in wrong gear, but still holding the clutch in. Fear I could've been rolling backwards into the car behind me, who no doubt wonders what on EARTH is up with that crazy chick in the truck in front of them. Let clutch out, finally turn, get first lesson in exactly how people peel out, decide first gear is safest for the fifty feet left before driveway... somehow do better in driveway than I did for the entire previous bit of the trip... which is good, because given the noises I was making that poor truck make, it probably would've woken my father.
