Where you can put that stick
So, as you may recall, in December we got a brand new, shiny, beautiful, Atlantic Blue Pearl, 2006 Subaru Outback. Standard transmission.
As you may also recall, I once learned how to drive stick, but only briefly, and not for any extended period of time, so my skills withered away before they got a chance to develop.
Here's an update:
The scene: me behind the wheel, Jay in the passenger seat, various college parking lots
me: *concentrating really hard, doing the 1st gear, stop, 1st gear, stop, 1st gear, park, reverse, 1st gear boogie.* I think I hate this.
Jay: You're doing fine.
Jay: Too fast on the clutch.
Jay: Too much gas.
Jay: Not enough gas.
Jay:Too much gas.
Jay: When in doubt, step on the clutch.
Jay:You didn't even look when you backed up that time.
me: Yes I did. They're called mirrors.
Jay:You can't see everything in a mirror.
me: Right. You can tell because I back into people all the time.
Jay:That's not the point.
*rude hand gesture* *rev*
Jay:Too much gas.
Jay:No, you're still too fast on the clutch.
Jay:More gas, more gas.
*gives it more gas* *stalls*
Jay:If you think you're going to lose it, just press the clutch.
me:But you said more gas.
Jay:It's okay, just press the clutch.
*extremely evil glare* *stall*
Jay:Just press the clutch.
me:No, Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.
*ebrake on, door open, lesson over*
Jay:Yeah, I think Nimbus has had enough of you. (said in extremely snotty tone while sniffing for clutch burn)
me:YOU. AND. THE. HORSE.
Jay:You're kind of cute when you're mad.
*evil glare plus rude gesture*
Jay:No, I mean it.
So. I think we're pretty much done with lessons. I can drive the damn thing. I just need practice. Real practice. Not in a parking lot practice. Preferably without Jay and his helpful comments. The World's Worst Passenger should not ever be a driving instructor.
Good thing he is cute.