Sunday, October 10, 2010

Week Forty

Event:  Learned to drive a 5-speed

"Mustang Sally....guess you better slow that Mustang down!"

Today I got a lesson on how to drive a 5-speed.  But not just any 5-speed.  A Ford Cobra Mustang 5-speed.  With red velvet leather seats.  Oooooh yeah. 

The first part of my lesson was to learn how to start the car.  And despite being told exactly what to do, like a 16-year-old doing this for the first time, my first attempt failed miserably.  Let's try this again.  Putting my feet in all the right places (sheesh, these pedals are tiny), I fired it up and let 'er rip.  Oh shit.  Now what. 

Getting it into first gear was a breeze.  Staying there...not so much.  I think I killed the car more than I drove it, but soon I figured out the delicate balance of clutch and gas.  After several successful turns at progressing from first gear to second, (side streets only - I didn't want to find myself at the top of a hill going backwards at a stoplight) I was encouraged to "peel out" because after all, that's what Mustangs are made for.  So, I came to a stop at the beginning of a quiet street.  Sweaty palms in tow, I "floored it".  And by "floored it" I mean "killed it."  Dang it.  My second try was slightly more successful and as I was really picking up speed (ok, I was really only going like 12 miles per hour but still) a squirrel literally ran into the middle of the road and stopped, as if to be singing Mustang Sally, telling me to "slow my Mustang down."  I got the message and he got a haircut.  Stupid squirrel.

Ok, third time's the charm.  New street.  New courage.  No squirrels.  And this time I gave it a good rev and gave myself the ultimate "peeling out" experience only to find myself coming to a screeching halt right into a family reunion picnic.  If looks could kill. 

As fun as that was, I'm really not a fan of working out while driving.  I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm going to get a charlie horse tonight in my left calf from the clutch work out.  And my right hand is cramping from squeezing the gear shift knob, so this 5-speed thing is for the birds.  Plus, with all the shifting and clutching when does one have time to send a text, put on make-up, change the music or eat?  I mean really.  (I hardly ever do these things and when I do I make sure I've come to a complete stop and it's a very long stoplight.  I promise.  Girl Scout Honor).

Ride, Sally, Ride.

No family reunion members were harmed during the making of this blog.

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