3480. There was no point in warning him that I had no idea
about how to drive a truck, and did not know what to do with the clutch of a
standard shift. Bluto insisted I drive, but before he had me turn on the engine
he gave me some simple explanations.
3481. He held up his hands and sort of rubbed them together as
an explanation of how a clutch works saying, “It works like this, my left hand
is the flywheel and my right hand is the clutch plate, when you lets the clutch
out they come together like this and the truck starts to move.”
3482. With that he brought his hands slowly together and
rubbed them around. I had no idea what it all meant. I pushed the clutch pedal
to the floor as I had seen him do a thousand times, and turned the key in the
ignition. I pushed down on the gas and let out the clutch, the truck leaped
forward about five feet, shut off, and Bluto went flying off the soda box into
the back of the truck. “That’s inertia,” I said to him.
3483. Bluto had
never been on the soda box passenger’s seat before; it was a new experience for
him.
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