Own Up Time

Old Pa, over at Tune Doctor, recently regaled us with the story of Steve, a man convinced of his own irresistibility to the opposite sex. The tale reminded me of Mark, a guy I knew when we were both about 18. Much like Steve, Mark thought he was God's gift to all women. He drove a souped up Ford Escort complete with the inevitable furry dice and whenever he spied a young lady he wanted to try and impress, he would sit at traffic lights in 1st gear revving and revving to get their attention, then let the clutch up as the lights changed and screech off, wheels spinning, down the street. He must've spent a fortune on tyres.

One day I was sitting in the passenger seat of his car, as Mark pulled up to red traffic lights and commenced his party piece for the millionth time. I just couldn't take it anymore. My right arm was leaning on the central armrest, so as he held the clutch down and revved the engine to attract the eye of a lady he'd spotted, I was able to pull the gear-stick back from 1st to neutral with a quick flick of my fingers. Unaware, he continued to rev, winking and smiling at the young lady in question as she crossed the road in front of us, until the lights changed, at which point he let the clutch up and floored the throttle. Except, of course, we didn't move an inch. It did, however, make a hell of a racket and everyone in the vicinity turned to see what was going on. The engine roar echoed around the narrow streets as Mark, red-faced, frantically tried to find a gear in which to slink away from the traffic lights. It was a glorious moment. Amusingly, after recovering from his embarrassment, he assumed that he'd missed the gear himself and never suspected me! 35 years later - I confess!