My Dad was a D.M. at Ford Motor Co., and part of his package was 2 company cars, one for my Mom, and one for the oldest college age kid. When my turn came around, I ordered up a 1981 Bronco with a 4 speed with the granny low first gear. Anyway, I had to pick it up at the Ford office, which was about 15 miles from home, through heavy traffic, lots of lights and a couple of circles. When my Dad walked me out to the lot, he asked "Hey, did I ever teach you to drive a stick?" When I said he hadn't, he said "Oh, hell!", handed me the keys and said "Well, I'll see you at home", and he walked back into the office.
Jumping out of lights with that crazy first gear, I'm still amazed I didn't kill anybody. By the time I got home, I'd given up on first, and just started out in second. Took it out and ran it through the woods that very night.
