Monday 20 October 2014

Automatic for the people

 Today yours truly had to travel to the furthest reaches of the Red Kite empire in the east and as Ruby was booked in the garage for a bit of tweeking they promised me the use of a courtesy car. Signs that all was not well were instantly apparent when Steve (really) the book the courtesy man looked at the list of cars to be booked out, gave a sharp intake of breath (the way only those holding your fate in their hands can) and exhaled "Nissan Pathfinder to Honda Jazz....hmmmm......interesting" thus giving the game away that courtesy car was going to be entirely unlike Ruby and totally blew his cover by saying "Ha...next thing you'll be telling me you can't drive an automatic"
My look of horror obviously fuelled his beaming smile when he delivered the coup de grace, "Well, you have limited options so I'm sure you'll catch on quick"
He led me past all the shiny super cars to a not so super car which looked like the type children collect found in chocolate eggs and was if similar stature. Driving lesson was all of "Don't try turning the key without the brake pedal pressed down" and "If you like we could amputate your left leg"
I tried to block out the funny man's comments and instead focused on the job in hand, launching Jazz into moving traffic. Sensing my disquiet Steve crouched down by the drivers door and with as much sincerity as he could muster said "Yes...I've often thought how tough it is on the driver of a car they they have never encountered before leave our forecourt and face that" He stared into the middle distance (Like Kilgore from Apocalypse Now) while the five lanes of traffic converging onto the 5 and half exits of Steels roundabout managed 157 near misses a second. He patted me reassuringly on the shoulder, "Good luck" and left me too it. Never ever having driven an automatic car this was going to be an eventful trip.
 Instantly I forgot everything about starting the car and after nearly bending the key in the ignition I remembered to press the brake pedal. We started moving, I wedged my left leg in the passenger door to stop me pressing the non existent clutch pedal, and somehow we survived 3.6 miles which was when I forgot there was no clutch and almost stood the car on its bonnet as I hit the brakes in an effort to change down the gear box. Apologies to the shock wave I sent through the traffic behind me. Apart from that all was well. The top picture is my view from the car park after 189 miles of nearly stress free motoring. I cannot comment on the stress I caused others.
The bottom two pictures were sent by he who cannot be named who had a much more interesting view from his car park.

1 comment:

Jeremy Fisher said...

Ha!
Try having both an Auto [Volvo] and a 6 speed manual [BM] and swapping regularly between the two. Like you, just now and again, mistaking the brake for the clutch in the auto results in rapid stops, much to the chagrin of those following!
Hopa all well with you and yours. Cheers