learning standard

Oh, the odd calculations of the insurance industry (auto, in this case). Apparently the insurance gods would rather we interns (with levels of stick-shift driving experiencing ranging from years to none) lurch around in the big white unpredictable farm pick-up truck to deliver our veggies than use our own vehicles for the job. Since Cristy Rose and Katerina weren't particularly keen on doing every one of our deliveries, lessons in the truck have commenced.

I, for one, have no excuse for my poor stick driving. Various patient individuals have taught me (at great expense to their nerves and their tires) how to drive a standard several times in the last few years. It hasn't really stuck.

And the farm pick-up adds some additional excitement. Should I manage not to stall while starting, I might have the stick shift knob come off, leaving me in an unpleasant place between first and second gears. If I adjust the rear-view mirror to better view the impatient traffic behind me, it may come off in my hand. Once I make it out to the highway, the truck might lurch to a halt all by itself due to some mysterious configuration of front and rear gas tanks which can be empty without anyone realizing (you guessed it - the gas gauge doesn't work; neither does the speedometer). And how about when I get fed up and want to get out? The door handle, like the stick-shift knob and rear-view mirror, comes off in my hand.

And yes, Erynn and I definitely fight over opportunities to drive it.