Shifting Gears


Something to remember when booking your rental car

A good friend of mine was kind enough to travel to the south of France a couple of years ago to witness the wondrous moment when my wife and I told each other “I do”.
All of the arrangements for his rental car had been made well ahead of time and he was, understandably, quite pleased at the reasonable rate he received.
On the day of his arrival I met him at the airport in Nice.

Let’s pick up the action as we walk out of the terminal toward the rental car lot:

Scene 1:
The morning is sunny and warm and there is a slight hint of lavender in the air.  Well dressed, attractive mothers push cute babies in stylish strollers.  In the distance, visible over the skyline of Nice, snow glistens on jagged alpine peaks.

Me: So you got a really good deal on your car didn’t you?
Friend: Yeah, I was kind of surprised I got such a good price.
Me: Excellent.
Booked economy?
Friend: Yep.

(short pause)

Friend: Hey, do any of these economy cars ever come with manual transmissions?
Me: Uh…. well, yeah, they all pretty much do.  Why?
Friend: Gosh, I hadn’t thought about it until now, but the last time I drove a stick shift was about twenty five years ago.

(long pause)

Friend: You don’t think that will be a problem do you?

(even longer pause)

Me: So how was your flight?

Scene 2:
The paper work is complete.  Friend and I chat amiably as the car is pulled around front.  I barely notice that Friend has been edging subtly toward the only tree, and shade, on the lot.  Small beads of sweat begin to appear on his forehead.
The car is delivered and Friend throws his custom-machine-crafted Sears luggage into the trunk and slides behind the wheel with admirable aplomb.  Only then do I notice that his shirt is inside-out.  I choose not to mention it.

Friend: Are you gonna stand there and watch me while I start the car?
Me: Well, yeah that was my plan.

(uncomfortable silence)

Friend: So am I supposed to push the clutch in before I turn the key?
Me: That’s probably a good idea, assuming of course, you want it to start.

Anything else you can think of that I might have forgotten?
Me: You mean in the twenty five years since you’ve driven a manual transmission?  Hmmm, other than actually how to drive it, I can’t think of anything you’ve missed.
Friend: Well, why don’t you go on and pull your car around and I’ll follow you to the hotel?
Me: Just for kicks I think I’ll stick around another minute or two.

15 increasingly uncomfortable minutes pass.  The car remains in the same location.  Not the same general location, but the same
exact location.

Scene 3:
You want me to hop in and move this baby real quick so the line of cars behind you can get out of the lot?
Friend: Nope, I got it now.  Just took me a second to get a good feel for this high strung little lady.
Me: Right….It’s a Toyota Yaris.
Friend: I think once I get her out on the open road I’ll feel a lot more comfortable with the shifter.
Me: That’s the hand brake.

Ten excruciatingly painful minutes pass.  It feels like a time frame within which Tolstoy’s “War and Peace” could easily be translated into Farsi …. by a German who doesn’t speak Farsi.

Friend now sits comfortably behind the wheel of a shiny BMW.

Scene 3:
So how do you like the Beemer?
Friend: Not bad.  I was actually kind of surprised they didn’t gouge me more than they did for the upgrade.
Me: You gonna be able to handle that automatic?
Friend: I think so…. you’re not gonna tell anybody about this are you?
Me: Not a chance.  Hey did I mention I was thinking about starting a blog?

5 responses

  1. Great recap. I know this story well, though I won’t say why. All I will say is I think that, at least on that day, my shirt was on properly.

  2. Pingback: Alec Harvey Guest Post: Thoughts on France « Le Stuff

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: