I didn’t know whether to laugh or be startled. Does this sort of stuff happen to anyone else?
A couple of weeks ago, I let my teen take my car to school. Hey, it was final exam week, which meant plenty of comings and goings. So I gave in.
Then somebody crunched my car in the student parking lot. But nobody left a note or anything.
So I had to take my car to the body shop – to drop a bundle of cash. It’s gonna take a few days, so they gave me an itty-bitty rental car.
The car rental agent pointed out the diminutive jalopy, which happened to sport Canadian license plates. After he pointed out the controls for the seat adjustment, headlights, and windshield wipers, I climbed in and was on my way in the toy car.
Not five minutes later, I was zipping along the freeway. I glanced at the speedometer.
No way, I thought. This little bucket of bolts would probably spontaneously combust at that speed.
I looked closer at the speedometer, which was in metric.
100 km equals approximately 62 mph.
No one said there’d be a math quiz.
So I stepped on the gas.
Metric Speedometer - Creative Commons Licensing photo
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