this week, i discovered several things. the extreme usefulness of pillows. the joy of a solid grip on your friend’s stick. (say that five times fast). the fact that my car doesn’t have interior lighting that can be operated by a switch. among others.
so i have many friends. few of them can drive a manual car. this is sad. i have made it my mission, among others, to remedy this situation. the solution requires time, pillows, and easy personal amusement. without these three, driving instruction is a disaster. with them, it is one of the most fun things that you can do. and only one kerb was mutilated in the process. shhh. don’t tell anyone with the richmond road services.
that’s a good point. the way people drive in richmond, kerbs are an endangered species, high on the persecuted objects list.
so we went to the mall. at midnight. in the parking lot. and drove around in circles for a few hours. and i found out several things. driving a car with a turbo is a fun spectator sport. you can be not particularly short but still unable to drive a scandanavian car built for amazons and the decendents of thor without the use of supporting materials of a relatively thick variety. she’s not all that much shorter than i am. must be something in the car. i think it’s sexist. doesn’t like female drivers. or pillows. is there a connection there? i shan’t say anything. it would be bad and unwise for family consumption. but i can imply. that’s safe. look down.
so here’s the sum of my contributed knowledge from this encounter. how to drive a standard in several short steps.
if you take your eyes off the road, you will hit something. likely something inanimate. it will hurt. this is bad.
start with your foot on the brake. if it is not there, you will roll. and hit something. also hurting is possible here. note. bad. well done.
the throttle is your friend. nuzzle it gently. stomp on it hard. don’t forget about it. it will eat you. and your children. even if you don’t have any yet. it’s fickle like that.
when you start, there is no relationship between a smooth takeoff and a smooth depression of the throttle. this is an urban myth. don’t believe it. it’s beyond stupid. it’s painful. almost like hitting something. which you’ll likely do, anyway. go figure. i like my tyres. ground clearance is my friend. more than i ever knew.
don’t touch the *insert expletive here* handbrake. it’s not there for you. once again — no handbrake. it’s for amusing escapades in powersliding. that’s it. no, it’s not for hills, starting, stopping, general fondling of inanimate objects, or inspection by functional attachment. congrats. you win at life.
the glovebox is not fundamental to driving. leave it alone. it will also eat you. with ketchup.
if you’re not having fun, you’re not moving fast enough. and it’s a parking lot. it should feel bloody fast. all the time. if not, you’re doing it wrong.
now you know how to drive. ok, maybe not. but we can pretend. take a bow. *shove*.
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