So there we were …

Last evening, Marion and I went to see The Drowsy Chaperone at the DCPA. I enjoyed it more than Marion, which may have been because the “Second City” heritage is pretty obvious.

After the performance, we got to my car, and were going to go for a late dessert. Pulling out of the parking lot, though, the feel of working the gearshift was different. I mentioned it to Marion after I’d shifted a couple more times on the way through downtown. I pulled up at the stoplight at 15th and Platte, and was unable to put the car into gear to move out again – there was absolutely no resistance to movement of the shift lever. With the help of a bystander, we got the car around the corner and parked, then we called AAA.

Marion “flicked” the shift lever up and watched it fall back a couple of times. I told her that it happened to every guy sooner or later, which lightened the situation a little bit. Since AAA told us “45 minutes,” we went across the street to My Brother’s Bar. Marion got her dessert, and I had a beer (Kronenbourg 1664). It actually only took about 25 minutes for the tow truck to arrive, and we were able to get a taxi easily. If we’d gone with the tow truck to my mechanic’s garage, we’d probably not have been able to get one. (No, my car is not of German manufacture, but I’ve been going to Joe since about 1981.)

So, I’m currently overstocked on houses and understocked on vehicles. Not the best situation to be in. Could be worse – at least the car was in neutral when this happened. It’s going to put a short-term crimp in my style, though.

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