So, today was my day to hit up the Veterans Outreach Food Pantry. My neighbor Jack, a fellow veteran, was game to tag along, so we piled into my Jeep for the ride. On the way, we’re shooting the breeze about life, plans, and maybe—*just maybe*—a winter road trip to Florida to escape the cold. Picture it: us cruising in my Jeep, splitting gas, and soaking up some sun.
I casually ask Jack, “You good with a stick shift?” He nods, all confident, “Yeah, no problem.” Then he glances at the shifter and goes, “Nice, a 6-speed.” I’m like, “Nah, man, it’s a 5-speed.” He squints at the knob and says, “That’s not what it says.”
Y’all, I swear on my Jeep—*I’ve owned this thing for eight months* and never knew it had a sixth gear. EIGHT. MONTHS. I’m out here driving like a caveman, shortchanging my own ride! Jack’s laughing his head off, and I’m just sitting there, feeling like the world’s biggest dufus. Moral of the story? DUH! 🤦♂️