We were at a wedding reception with some friends and family and to some it was such an exciting occasion that when it came time to leave some people found themselves driving different vehicles home due to the owners being unable to walk straight. That’s how I found myself driving the Smith’s minivan.
I don’t really enjoy driving that much. I wasn’t able to get my license until I was 23 (medical reasons, not criminal) so I never went through the “Woo hoo I can drive! Let’s get out of here!” phase. I especially don’t like driving other people’s vehicles, on the highway, late on a Saturday night.
When the can didn’t go anywhere my brother-in-law Brandon had to point out the parking brake was on. :rolleyes: I started to look around for it. Hmm . . . not sure what that lever did, but it didn’t release the brake. That one there is the fuel tank . . . tail gate . . . I finally found the disengage pedal.
By that point the people we were supposed to follow to the Smith’s house had left, but I knew about where the lived so we took off. Did I mention I hate driving? Getting on the highway is nerve-wracking for me. A semi truck suddenly appeared in front of us. I cautiously maneuvered to change lanes to get around him. I was (like a good driver) checking my mirrors when . . .
WHAM!
:eek:
“Shit!”
It seems the level I pulled that didn’t do anything when I was looking for the brake, was in fact the hood release. Oops. I guess the second latch that is supposed to keep the hood down in case the first release is pulled doesn’t work at 65+ mph on a 10 year old minivan.
I am still impressed by my nerves of steel while under pressure. With cat like reflexes I ducked enough to see through the gap under the still-open hood while checking that Brandon hadn’t suffered a heart attack. I waited for the lane to clear (damn drivers with their full view of the road! Learn how to drive!) before stopping the Car of Death on the side of the highway, right next to the Safelite AutoGlass building.
Instead of waiting 45 minutes for an un-named but Almost Always Alphabetically-first company to tow us we manage to get it to the Smith’s house. You never know what kind of friendship you have with someone until you see how they react to you causing a few hundred dollars of damage to their car. I guess ours is pretty solid.
Fortunately they were able to convince the insurance company that it should be covered under the flying-roadway-object clause (hey, the hood was coming through the air) so I don’t owe anything.
My wife and I bought a minivan last weekend. While we were showing it to the Smiths, he was sure to point out where the parking brake and hood release are.
I hate driving. Anyone want to be a chauffeur?