The first mishap occurred as a young "experienced" teenage diver (or at least that's what I thought I was.) I was taking my mom to do some errands in my sister's little Ford Festiva. It was a tiny little thing. We used to call it THE RED BULLET. Sounds FAST and FURIOUS, huh?!!! Well, that could not have been further from the truth.
It was ME!
But, unfortunately, my slips at the wheel don't end there. Years after THE BULLET incident, another slip up occurred. This time, I couldn't blame it on my inexperience. By now I had been driving for years and driving pretty well for that matter. This time my brother-in-law's Plymouth Breeze was the victim. I had backed my car into a parking spot as I waited for him. He showed up. My sister hopped into his car. We began to set the cars in motion and then BAM! The Plymouth Rocked and Shook. Sometime or another, the wheels in my head stopped turning again and I forgot to put the car back into drive. I sat still for a moment. This time I had no where to hide. I thought I was a goner for sure. It was bad! I crushed the whole side with my Explorer. Luckly for me, I kept it in the family once again. If it would have been someone else, either time, I know they would not have been so understanding.
Hopefully, my days of slipping at the wheel are over. The wheels in my head have been greased up and running smoothly ever since.