I can't even tell you how awesome this was. Of course, this summer I didn't have a job, but it was still nice to have a second car. And my brother ok'd my trips to my parents' (8 hour drive), as well as back and forth to job interviews (is he great or what!?)
It was a great car, the Toyota Highlander, but I will say it had to touchiest brakes on any car that I've ever driven. When I arranged to pick it up, the ex-wifey had left it in the parking lot of her workplace w/ the key under a mat. Jamie dropped me off, and I jumped in for my first drive in the 'new' car. Change the radio, adjust the mirrors, buckle the seat belt, and I'm off. Getting out of the parking lot, I must've looked like a student driver. I'd be going give or take 4mph and gently depress the brake pedal, only to get slammed to a dead halt. So, other than a little whiplash getting out of the parking lot I'm doing good.
Then I turn onto the road, and notice that a magical leprechaun clearly drove this car previously b/c I'm sitting so close to the steering wheel I'm fairly certain I could touch it w/ my tongue. No worries I'll merely adjust the seat. Coming to a stop light, I lean down w/ my left hand reaching in between my legs to pull up the bar to release the seat. Only when I go to push back on the released seat I inadvertently push on the brake pedal, as I'm slowing for the stoplight. SCREECH, SLAM!!! Not only does the SUV stop on a dime, but of course the seat isn't locked and comes flying forward into the steering wheel at what, I'm going to hazard a guess to say, is near the speed I was just traveling only seconds prior.
So, here I am stopped randomly thirty yards from the stoplight, pinned awkwardly to the steering wheel by the seat which has now conveniently locked into place. The seat is so far forward that I can barely breath let alone move, and at this point I could actually lick the wheel b/c my face is awkwardly smashed into it at about two o'clock, with my left arm stuck (yes, you guessed it) between my body and the steering wheel still reaching between my legs. Sigh. Placed the car in park, flipped on my flashers w/ my free hand, and then I start to shimmy my arm downward trying to reach the bar to once again release the seat.
This is about the time the bicycle cop knocked on my driver's side window . . . needless to say I got the seat released, and then set about the task of convincing him that I had, in fact, not been drinking. No easy task since understandably he "doesn't often encounter people who get into car accidents w/ themselves, other cars, other people, even trees, but not usually themselves" . . . his words not mine.
|What Amber got in the divorce!|