Learning to Drive Stick With Sulie

In my last post I made a reference to my first car--a 1980 VW Rabbit. I have looked for an exact picture. I could only find this:

Mine was white with red and orange stripes on the side. A 4-speed with a sweet red interior. A Pioneer tape deck/radio so I could blast Ozzy and AC/DC. I worked at the Wendy's drive through to make the payments. Ahh...one moment while I scan a picture when I dressed up as Wendy to give a football player an award. For this I got my hourly wage of $3.35 and got to have Friday night off (enabling me to go to a keg party on Powerline Road.

This picture is disturbing on so many levels. Let me list the ways:

• That I was willing to do this so I could have Friday night off.
• The guy's gut. WTH?
• The Wendy's manager (I forgot his name, let's just call him Mr. Tool) in his sweet polyester jacket.

Okay, as usual, I digress. My boyfriend taught me to drive stick. I had learned from my Dad when I was 8 in a Ford Bronco with "3 on the tree" (it made it easier when he was hunting to have me drive. PEOPLE, I am serious). I knew how to do the clutch, but a 4-speed on the hills in Gainesville was different. 

A day came when I decided that Sulie needed to learn how to drive. I think I was 17 and she was 15. Maybe 16 and 14. It's all hazy. I convinced her to practice in our neighborhood. We lived at the top of a pretty steep hill. It was steep enough that I would park in the street, crawl out of my window late at night, get into the car, out it in neutral and pop the clutch at the bottom so my Mom wouldn't hear the car start. Brilliant. 

Back to Sulie Driving School. There we are--cruising down NW 32nd Street. She has successfully gotten into 2nd gear. I had told her how to stop the car. I was telling her to drive into the driveway really slow. She kinda misjudged the turn and took out our mailbox. Our next door neighbors had 3 little girls. The Mom came over and REAMED us. I just remember Sulie sobbing as the Mom screamed that we could have hurt her girls. It was bad. I won't even blog about what happened when my Mom got home. 

Poor Sulie. She wasn't real excited about learning to drive after that fine experience. I think I asked if she wanted to learn how to drive stick a few years ago. She said "no thanks." I taught John's oldest boy. He was 15 with a learner's permit and we practiced in a deserted parking lot.

To this day I still remember how to out the condiments on a Wendy's hamburger:

Mayonnaise, Mustard, Lettuce, Onion, Pickle, Ketchup.