Howard Bassem (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iselldrugstothecommunity) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trans_92012-02-10 12:18 pm
iselldrugstothecommunity) wrote in trans_92012-02-10 12:18 pm
Entry tags:
All I Have to Do is to Press the Pedal [Open]
Thump.
"God damn it!" Howard hops out of the car he's been practicing parking in and runs behind it to check what he hit. Just one of the cones he set up, thank goodness, and there's no damage to the car, but after four hours of this he's getting beyond frustrated. He sets the cone back up and gets back in the car.
The car itself is, in the kindest form of the word, a junker. Howard considers it a minor miracle that between pouring over the manual and putting pieces of it together with duct tape and dried bubblegum he's managed to get the engine running. Granted, he doubts it can handle more than ten miles an hour, the brake lights and turn signals don't work, and the windshield and rearview window are missing, but he isn't looking for a permanent vehicle here. He just needs something to practice in.
Normal fifteen year-olds take driver's ed, right? And he's always done better learning on his own than listening to lectures. So after reading through a few books on driving and watching some tapes in the Media Library, not to mention having driven around a few times back in the FAYZ, he thinks he's about due to do something this normal. Scratch that - the universe owes it to him. So that's why he found a mostly empty street in the city to set up a little driving obstacle course.
He does, however, wish he could have found an automatic junker to salvage. Clearly the inventor of the stick-shift only created it so he could mess with Howard. And with those poor traffic cones.
Thunk.
[OOC: bendied to before foodplot and survivalist plot.]
"God damn it!" Howard hops out of the car he's been practicing parking in and runs behind it to check what he hit. Just one of the cones he set up, thank goodness, and there's no damage to the car, but after four hours of this he's getting beyond frustrated. He sets the cone back up and gets back in the car.
The car itself is, in the kindest form of the word, a junker. Howard considers it a minor miracle that between pouring over the manual and putting pieces of it together with duct tape and dried bubblegum he's managed to get the engine running. Granted, he doubts it can handle more than ten miles an hour, the brake lights and turn signals don't work, and the windshield and rearview window are missing, but he isn't looking for a permanent vehicle here. He just needs something to practice in.
Normal fifteen year-olds take driver's ed, right? And he's always done better learning on his own than listening to lectures. So after reading through a few books on driving and watching some tapes in the Media Library, not to mention having driven around a few times back in the FAYZ, he thinks he's about due to do something this normal. Scratch that - the universe owes it to him. So that's why he found a mostly empty street in the city to set up a little driving obstacle course.
He does, however, wish he could have found an automatic junker to salvage. Clearly the inventor of the stick-shift only created it so he could mess with Howard. And with those poor traffic cones.
Thunk.
[OOC: bendied to before foodplot and survivalist plot.]
no subject
"I'm trying to parallel park, which is really hard to do without rearview mirrors, so yeah, it's all the car's fault. Entirely. Totally."
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"Maybe find a mirror first? Much better for your blood pressure, y'know," he offered conversationally.
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"Don't use logic on me. I've set my mind to getting this done and I'm going to do it, dammit." KERTHUMP. "Unless you have a mirror on hand."
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"The only thing you seem to be doing is causing a traffic cone massacre."
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He watches the cones dubiously. "What'd they do, kick your dog?"
no subject