![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
"Nonsense! One would fall off."
Jul. 11th, 2006 03:19 amAnd came down in Marilee's birthday party.
Yesterday, the 9th, since that was her birthday, as well as Caduceuskun's, Leonard Richardson's, and that of moderately younger Windsor House person Fiona. The party was split into a formal dinner and a wandering-in-the-park; I skipped the former in favour of the latter, which proved to be a bit of a tactical misstep, since several people I hadn't seen for a while and would have liked to spend more time with came to the dinner and left immediately afterward. Although I knew many of those remaining, together they constituted a crowd that I didn't know, and I was aware of understanding about half of what was going on. Nonetheless, I enjoyed myself pretty well.
When the party broke up, Andrew and I set off in the same direction as![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spookyfish's car, and so we were nearby when, after driving for about twenty feet, it died and wouldn't start again. We approached, and asked if they wanted us to push; I think we both thought that we were joking, but, marvellously, we were actually enlisted in the effort, along with most of the passengers. The hope was that the car was only out of gas, so together we pushed it about 11 blocks (9 north, 2 west) to the nearest gas station.
I had never pushed a car before, and it was far too much fun. It was much lighter than I would have expected, at least with three people at a time and downhill, and we indulged in silly affectations like actually stopping at some of the stop signs. We would push for a while, and then hop up and ride on the outside; mostly on the back bumper, but I once ran ahead to spend about ten triumphant seconds sitting up on the hood. I felt like Akio.
The lingering euphoria of that activity was probably useful in helping the group maintain our high spirits when, having completed its goal and with a relatively full tank of gas, the car still wouldn't start. This persisted even through an exhaustive consideration of the engine and the educated support of a passing motorcyclist with a spanish accent ("These old cars, they are my specialty"); eventually, Spookyfish called the BCAA, and the rest of us walked or bussed our separate ways. I do not know what since became of the car.
And went up. And came down to David's house, today, which was also fun, but I'm tired enough to close the entry without elaborating further.
Yesterday, the 9th, since that was her birthday, as well as Caduceuskun's, Leonard Richardson's, and that of moderately younger Windsor House person Fiona. The party was split into a formal dinner and a wandering-in-the-park; I skipped the former in favour of the latter, which proved to be a bit of a tactical misstep, since several people I hadn't seen for a while and would have liked to spend more time with came to the dinner and left immediately afterward. Although I knew many of those remaining, together they constituted a crowd that I didn't know, and I was aware of understanding about half of what was going on. Nonetheless, I enjoyed myself pretty well.
When the party broke up, Andrew and I set off in the same direction as
spookyfish's car, and so we were nearby when, after driving for about twenty feet, it died and wouldn't start again. We approached, and asked if they wanted us to push; I think we both thought that we were joking, but, marvellously, we were actually enlisted in the effort, along with most of the passengers. The hope was that the car was only out of gas, so together we pushed it about 11 blocks (9 north, 2 west) to the nearest gas station.I had never pushed a car before, and it was far too much fun. It was much lighter than I would have expected, at least with three people at a time and downhill, and we indulged in silly affectations like actually stopping at some of the stop signs. We would push for a while, and then hop up and ride on the outside; mostly on the back bumper, but I once ran ahead to spend about ten triumphant seconds sitting up on the hood. I felt like Akio.
The lingering euphoria of that activity was probably useful in helping the group maintain our high spirits when, having completed its goal and with a relatively full tank of gas, the car still wouldn't start. This persisted even through an exhaustive consideration of the engine and the educated support of a passing motorcyclist with a spanish accent ("These old cars, they are my specialty"); eventually, Spookyfish called the BCAA, and the rest of us walked or bussed our separate ways. I do not know what since became of the car.
And went up. And came down to David's house, today, which was also fun, but I'm tired enough to close the entry without elaborating further.
