Monday, November 19, 2007

My First Fun Monday


Karisma is hosting Fun Monday. All my blog friends have been participating for weeks and it looks like fun, so I decided to join in.

Karisma says:

I want you to take a trip down memory lane, and keep right on going, right back to your childhood. And I want to hear "THAT STORY". You remember the one? Yes, you do! The one your parents, siblings, extended family or friends, would never let you forget, live down or get over!"

Dead laptop equals no pictures of Kaycie as a kid.

But, there is absolutely no lack of embarrassing stories. In fact, I am having difficulty deciding which one to tell. The one where I fell from the swing set while showing off and cut my back open then cried, not because I was hurt, but because there was blood on my brand new sundress? Or the one where I ran up the stairs into the very clean, very closed sliding glass doors and did a somersault backwards . . . in a skirt . . . on Christmas Eve . . . in front of my father's entire family? The one where I told my parents the Sonic reached out and hit my truck? Or maybe the one where I put a hole into the hollow core bathroom door with a kitchen knife trying to get to my brother? No, definitely not that one. Hmmmm. I know.

I was eighteen years old and a senior in high school. My father had just bought me a new car. It was a Volkswagen Rabbit to replace the incredibly cool but ridiculously dangerous fiberglass Bradley GT Daddy gave me the summer I was sixteen. He wanted me to have something reliable to drive to college. It was blue, had a stereo and I could get more than one friend in it. I thought it was SO cool. There was just one problem: it had a standard transmission and I could not drive it.

I had been driving almost two years and drove about as well as any other teenage girl. Which means badly. My father never rode in a vehicle with me if he could help it. It always ended in him yelling and me crying. However, my mother did not drive a standard, so it fell to him to teach me.




The Rabbit was parked in the driveway. I got into the driver's seat and my 6' 2", 225 pound father folded his big frame into the passenger seat. I remember being amused because the top of his hat touched the ceiling and even with the seat all the way back, his knees were almost touching the dash. He told me to start the car. Without depressing the clutch (!), I turned the key. The car lurched forward and died. It came to rest on top of the air compressor that was between the car and the house, the front bumper pressed against the siding on the house. It was a miracle nothing was damaged. I immediately asked Daddy why the car was in gear. In a snotty, teenaged girl kind of way. For some reason I thought the car should have been in neutral because the parking brake was set. Choice words came out of his mouth and there was something said about me being ignorant of driving and a smart ass on top of it. Anyway, we went around the block a couple of times without me killing the car and Daddy called it done. I am sure it was to keep from murdering me.

Later that evening, my mother sent me to the store to get some cheese for the tacos she was making for dinner. Daddy decided I should take the Rabbit for practice and sent my brother with me to help me through shifting gears. My fifteen year old brother. Yeah. That didn't work out so well for us.

After much fussing (me) and threatening to walk (my brother), we finally made it the six or seven miles to the grocery store. My brother complimented me on driving through the parking lot without killing the car. It was most definitely sarcasm. The grocery store was just south of the Sonic and they both sat right off Interstate 169 which ran through the middle of town. After successfully buying cheese and starting the car, I turned out of the parking lot headed north, and just as we were passing the Sonic, an enormous rendering truck ran the stop sign on the other side of the street and hit the Rabbit right in the driver's side door. The impact of the accident threw the car into the driveway of the Sonic. I'd had the Rabbit three days.

My brother remembers having his eyes clenched tightly, afraid to look. Without opening his eyes, he said my name. I didn't answer. He said my name again, louder. Silence. After a few seconds, he got the courage to open his eyes to look my way. The door was standing wide open and I wasn't answering him because I was gone. He got out of the car, stood up, and looked at the truck that had hit us.

I was about 5' 4" then and 110 pounds soaking wet. I had climbed up onto the running board of the truck and was furiously yelling at the guy who had hit us, waving my finger in his face. My brother says it went something like: "Don't you know what that stop sign means? I have had that car three days! Three days! My Daddy is going to kill you when he gets here, you just wait!"

I yelled at him until someone came up and gently led me away. Nowata is a small place, and the people who owned the Sonic knew who we were. They called Mom and Dad who were there in no time. The police barely beat them. The guy driving the truck tried to blame me for the accident. Shrinking violet that I am, I began yelling again.

Anytime that anyone in my family talks about accidents, sooner or later (usually sooner), someone tells this story. My parents seem to take special pleasure in telling it now that I have a teenager driving. My brother, of course, laughs with glee, then tells anyone present how he was scared for his life anytime he was forced to get into a vehicle with me. The jerk.

My husband takes this story as evidence that I have never been smart enough to be afraid of anything or anyone.

Hey, at least I can take care of myself.

25 comments:

susan said...

Three days...how sad! That poor truck driver never stood a chance with you did he?

This makes me cringe though...my daughter will be getting her license next month. Ahhh!

laurie said...

ha! what a great story! and it makes me want to hear the butcher knife story all the more!

i drove nothing but stick shifts until my latest car (a subaru). now i'm not sure i could do it again.

Kim said...

Susan, my sixteen year old daughter starting driving in June. It hasn't been pretty. Good luck to you and yours! Thanks for visiting.

Hey, Laurie! I said a KITCHEN knife, not a BUTCHER knife. Let's not make me sound worse than I am, if you don't mind. Geez.

My first new car was a stick shift and so is my current car after years of driving an automatic. I love it.

Hootin' Anni said...

LOL on the part where brother congratulated you on making it through the parking lot....this is so typical of brothers.

Bren said...

OMG, your story reminds me of when a drunk guy ran a red light and hit me. I was driving a friend's car and only had a learner's permit that was at home on my dresser at the time. The drunk was in a big tank of car with a huge metal bumper that came off in the crash. I got out and drug it into the middle of the street while yelling at him.

I hope my kids get a little of that spunk.:)

Pamela said...

oh what fun memories. reminds me - that my brother's good lookin' friend took me out in his cooooool car and taught me. Only how to drive a stick shift. Nothing else *darn!

ps I bet that truck driver was shaking in his boots

Tiggerlane said...

I just hope you got another new car out of the deal - I can just see you, giving that truck driver the "what for!"

Karmyn R said...

Only 3 days! The poor little VW! I'd have loved to see you yelling at the truck driver. I'm glad neither you nor your brother were hurt!

Robocop said...

The epic of the beginning driver! **LOL** When I started driving, I successfully drove my '72 Buick into the garage, and kept going. There are two enterances into and out of our garage.

Amanda said...

WOW! This story sounds SOOOO familiar! I had my license EXACTLY THREE DAYS when someone in a big ford truck blew a light and totaled my 70 VW Bug. I sympathize!

AnGlOpHiLe FoOtBaLl FaNaTiC said...

Good for you tearing into the driver. I can't believe he tried to blame you for the wreck. And, I'm sure your brother at least got some free Sonic while you waited for the cops.

Gattina said...

I would have done the same, lol ! When I see that somebody is blaming me for something I haven't done I also jump in his face !
I also participate the first time in Fun Monday because I have read some very funny stories.

Robinella said...

Really good story. Glad you both were not hurt.

I learned to drive stick on dirt roads. My first car was a stick and I was *good* at it. I took a lot of pride in how smooth I shifted. Only problem was hills. I just couldn't get the hill thing and even now, 17 years later, if I drive a stick car, I try to avoid hilly areas.

elizabethm said...

I wouldn't let my dad teach me to drive. Knew our relationship would never survive. all my teaching was with professional types who could forgive me.
Loved your story. One of our sons passed his driving test after only three weeks of driving (he suddenly got offered a cancellation driving test). We thought he had no chance: he passed. Took him another year to learn to drive (he is good now!).

gawilli said...

Great story! I can sympathize about learning to drive a stick. I had once around the parking lot at the dealership and they sent me on my way. There was nothing but stop signs and hills all the way home. Luckily no trucks!

laurie said...

ps my dad tried to teach me to drive. he had a legendary temper, and i had vowed to stay away from any driving lessons. but he tricked me. we were out in the country and suddenly he stopped the car, got out, came around to the passenger side, told me to get out, and when i did he sat down. then he told me to get in and drive.

i was sooooo scared. i had never driven before. it was raining, november, we were way the hell out in the country... all i remember is him pounding on the dashboard and swearing. i remember nothing else. nothing at all.

Sirdar said...

At least you survived. Could have been a sad story..but glad it wasn't.

I learned to drive a standard out on the farm. Had to drive the 1-ton and of course it has a stick shift. I was about 10 at the time. Most of my cars have had stick shifts.

Welcome to Fun Monday!!

-Ann said...

Great story, very well told. Glad that you weren't hurt.

laurie said...

ps i maintain it was a butcher knife. i can just see it....

Crystal Jigsaw said...

Good on you for wagging a finger and showing a cross face. These truck drivers get away with far too much. We could do with more of your guts around the world.

Crystal xx

the rotten correspondent said...

My parents forced me to learn on a stick, since it was all we had. But I had a terrible time whenever I drove automatics,since I took forever to understand that you need your foot on the brake when you put the car into drive.

My foot was always on the gas (like for a clutch) and any car I was in did the bunny hop.

wakeupandsmellthecoffee said...

I don't want to be behind you when you're driving! I had to learn on a stick too. Lots of stories about stalling in the middle of intersections. Then there was the time I drove my brother's new-to-him car in rush-hour traffic and flooded the engine and had to get towed by some strangers and the bumper got torn off and I didn't even have enough money to make a phone call.

Alta said...

My dad never had patience to teach my mom. He always yelled at her so it was up to my ex to teach her. LOL

lady macleod said...

LOL excellent story. Albeit I am thinking just following any telling of this one, perhaps it would silence your brother if you remind him of the knife in the door?

Kim said...

Lady Mac, I am glad you're feeling well enough to go blog visiting.

I'm gonna have to tell the knife story now. It does scare my brother a bit. But it scared him much more when he was still smaller than me. He passed me by twenty years ago.