Shortly after getting my license at the age of 16 I found myself out of work. At the time, I rarely had more than a few dollars to my name, but my lack of money did not curb my insatiable desire to drive. Even though my car almost continuously read “E” on the gas gauge and I ignored it to pursue my young, teenage dreams.
I was driving one sunny, Friday afternoon and notice that, as usual, I had barely any gas. I had enough to buy a couple of gallons, but since it was Friday I obviously had more pressing financial endeavors in store in the coming hours. I shirked the gas station and continued on my way when I felt the car begin to jerk slightly. I stepped on the gas to find that instead of moving forward, the unresponsive engine was slowing bringing me to a stop. I couldn’t believe it. I had always gone this far before. When I looked at my surroundings I was shocked to learn that I stalled in the middle of the intersection. I quickly jumped out and began pushing with no one willing to help me – everyone seemed to already know what was going on and decided they should punish me for my teenage stupidity.
There are two key positions when pushing a car. One to steer the vehicle and one to push. Both are equally important, as I quickly learned. With only myself pushing the car and no one in the driver’s seat, my car began veering off and, before I realized where I was going with the car, we both ended up in the ditch on the side of the road.
Luckily for me, when I walked to a near by grocery store to phone for a tow truck I stumbled upon my grandfather buying cottage cheese and lottery tickets. He, of course, help me out, called and paid for a tow truck and bought me some much needed petrol.
Everything turned out OK in the end, or so I thought, however when I showed up for school on Monday I learned that several “influential” students saw my little incident and began spreading the news of my idiocy. When I went to church on Sunday I also learned that the bishop’s wife had seen me actually push my car into the ditch, yet did nothing. Thanks, sister.
I was driving one sunny, Friday afternoon and notice that, as usual, I had barely any gas. I had enough to buy a couple of gallons, but since it was Friday I obviously had more pressing financial endeavors in store in the coming hours. I shirked the gas station and continued on my way when I felt the car begin to jerk slightly. I stepped on the gas to find that instead of moving forward, the unresponsive engine was slowing bringing me to a stop. I couldn’t believe it. I had always gone this far before. When I looked at my surroundings I was shocked to learn that I stalled in the middle of the intersection. I quickly jumped out and began pushing with no one willing to help me – everyone seemed to already know what was going on and decided they should punish me for my teenage stupidity.
There are two key positions when pushing a car. One to steer the vehicle and one to push. Both are equally important, as I quickly learned. With only myself pushing the car and no one in the driver’s seat, my car began veering off and, before I realized where I was going with the car, we both ended up in the ditch on the side of the road.
Luckily for me, when I walked to a near by grocery store to phone for a tow truck I stumbled upon my grandfather buying cottage cheese and lottery tickets. He, of course, help me out, called and paid for a tow truck and bought me some much needed petrol.
Everything turned out OK in the end, or so I thought, however when I showed up for school on Monday I learned that several “influential” students saw my little incident and began spreading the news of my idiocy. When I went to church on Sunday I also learned that the bishop’s wife had seen me actually push my car into the ditch, yet did nothing. Thanks, sister.
P.S. The picture is an accurate representation of the type of car I had when I was 16 - A 1981 Ford Fairmont stationwagon.
1 comment:
Don't you hate the bystander effect?
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