My wife and I looked at each other when we heard the engine revving.
It filled the room then slowly faded away. But not in the same way a car does when it accelerates away from you.
The engine continued to rev and it was coming from just outside my front door.
I looked outside expecting to see some clown in a Civic burning his clutch in an attempt to spin front tires. But instead of Vtech-YoEG I found a young lady slowly rolling backwards down a busy street in a new Fiat 500.
After filming for just a few seconds, I realized this car wasn't going up the hill without assistance.
The driver needed help. I was that help.
I darted from the house and ran across the very busy street. I walked up to her car, smiling, and calmly opened the door.
I asked, "Is the emergency brake on?"
She pulled the phone away from her ear, likely calling someone in her time of despair, and replied, "Yes, it's on."
"Slide over," I said trying my best to hide the laughter in my voice.
The young lady, red from embarrassment, crawled over the manual shifter, the catalyst of this whole fiasco, and sunk into the passenger seat. I jumped in the little Italian compact and pulled the car up the hill and safely around the corner to a more flat driving surface.
As I turned the car off she joked she had been driving all day and just couldn't get up the hill. I reassured her that my wife had a similar incident happen in an old Ford Aspire. I praised her for pulling the trigger on a car with a manual transmission
Did I save her life? No. Did I save her car? Probably.
It feels good helping those in automotive distress. Especially when the whole reason for their trouble is that they opted for a manual transmission in a new car without really knowing how to drive one.
Good for them...I think.