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.