Stick Shifts & Safety Belts

I took the roomie out to drive tonight. We've been planning forever and ever to get out and for me to teach her how to drive a stick, and tonight it just so happened that both of us were done with our Saturday night plans about 9 p.m. So off we went. We found a church parking lot close to a neighborhood.

As soon as she got in the driver's seat, I said, "Now, you're going to kill it. A lot. It will probably jerk and make an awful sound. That's normal. Just be prepared." She got it going the very first time! That didn't last though. Afterwards, she made the comment that she thought, "I've done it once, I can just keep doing it. Nope, it doesn't work like that." Nevertheless, she was a trooper.

So we worked on starting and stopping. Then I let her shift up into second. We practiced lots of stopping and starting and shifting into second. Lots. At one point, a security guard was driving through the parking lot. We were slightly concerned he would stop us, and I found myself secretly hoping the roomie would kill the car so he would know what we were up to. Sure enough, I think he got the hint.

We did more stopping and starting, then ventured into the neighborhood so she could get up to speed to put the car into third. We found the street had a lot of stop signs, which she hated but I knew was good for her to practice. We found ourselves back into the church parking lot where I insisted she work on stopping and starting again. At one point she asked, almost begging, "Can I please put it in second?" So I let her. Then we commenced the starting and stopping.

At this point, I started noticing how hot I was feeling. Then I realized that old familiar feeling of my favorite friend, motion sickness. I casually said something to the roomie about it. We kept at the starting and stopping, turning around and starting and stopping. I commented again on how I wasn't feeling well, to which she said, "Oh I totally forgot you weren't feeling well! I've probably made you so sick you can't drive us home! Do you want to stop?" For some reason, I just said, "Oh, I'll probably throw up and and feel fine and then be able to drive us home." I always say I'll throw up, but never do. We were behind the church, and so I said, we'll start and stop all the way down this stretch, then I'll let you get it fast enough to put it into second, then we'll call it a night."

She stopped the car. I got out, then realized I should walk a bit. I walked over to a little grassy spot and found myself throwing up. Hoping my roomie wasn't watching, but afraid she was, I crouched down low. After what seemed like an eternity, I popped up. Sure enough, she had been watching the entire time! "I felt like I needed to give you moral support!" She said, after she complimented how gracefully I purged my stomach contents. 

To be honest, while I said I would probably throw up and feel better, I really wasn't expecting to actually do it. I hardly ever throw up, considering I hate it so much. We found ourselves laughing hysterically about it. Best part about it, roomie will always have a great story to tell about the first time she got behind the wheel of a stick.