Car Troubles: Run in With the Gardener.

Lampost

I’m guessing you read disaster and immediately associate the word with an accident. This is exactly what happened and yes it did involve my car and me. By reading this blog you know that I am still alive and I am not in prison, so surely the accident was not that bad. In fact I wouldn’t even call it an accident, maybe just a bump.

Ok now you’re probably wondering what I may have done. No I did not kill anyone, damage anyone or murder a cat. In fact, I just dented a car. Ok, lets be more specific. A truck. Yes my tiny ford fiesta miraculously managed to dent a truck.

So I reversed around the sharp corner of the driveway, guided by the smiling gardener, following his hand signals. My reverse seemed to be going pretty well at this point. Well for me anyway. This is the first time I’d followed hand signals before so I assume that I just followed his lead. Little did I know glimpsing away for one second would mean reversing into his vehicle. Yes I reversed into the gardener’s truck.

Oops.

You heard me right; I reversed in to a truck while the owner was watching. How embarrassing. And the worst part of it is I see him on a regular basis.

Everyone always seems to be watching the minute I do something wrong. And in this case it was the gardener. As he walked over to his car, the smile now wiped off of his face, I sat dreading the moment he would walk towards me from the accident scene, insurance information in hand. Luckily for me he didn’t.

“Only a little scratch” he said, “Don’t worry about it.”

I may have escaped insurance claims, a dent on my car and death, but I did not escape the shame. These sort of situations always happen to me. At least it wasn’t a lamp post.

Round 3: Driving Disaster.

Driving
Stalling a car five times in a row is not cool.

Driving past the Topa Topa Ranch for the fourth time I was confident that I had successfully perfected the route.

The gears, stops, and keeping on the road were all finicky mistakes that needed changing but I was sure that this was the time that I would prove myself as the brilliant driver I was destined to be. I was wrong.

Cruising up to the stop sign I efficiently switched into second gear and began to slow. Greeting the white line I stopped perfectly.

Slowly I took my foot of the clutch pushing my right foot onto the gas. Stall.

Peering around it seemed that a once derelict crossroads had transformed into a now raging road (otherwise known as a death zone).

Ok you can do this Georgie. I turned off the ignition and once again go through the simultaneous steps to start the car. Edging my foot off the clutch I get ready to go. Stall.

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