Jeff is teaching me to drive a manual transmission, so today I drove to the grocery store and back. To the store is downhill; back home is uphill. Keep in mind that I have not been driving stick-shift very long, and I'm still kind of getting used to where the catch-point is, and I have had especially little practice with starting on an upwards hill.
So I was stopped at a light, the first person at the light (I caught almost every single red light on the way back!) and this guy in a sports car is uncomfortably close to me in back. The light turns green, I let off the clutch and press in the gas a little, I fall back. I try it again and fall back a little more. People behind me are getting impatient; genius boy on my rear bumper pulls forward even farther. Third time was the charm, and I was safe, off and running.
Luckily I managed to get it the last time, but what if I hadn't? It would have been his fault, but it still would have been a royal pain (a fender-bender at a major intersection in Seattle, with no convenient pull-overs nearby). Jeff and I couldn't get over his utter stupidity, and we kept repeating to ourselves, F***ing asshole.
As I shifted back into first gear at the next light, I muttered it again, and suddenly it became Jeff's slang for reminding me to switch into first.
I'm not one for gratuitous profanity, but this time I think it was entirely appropriate.
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