The funny part about it is that it was my mom's car. She worked at a State mental health facility at the time and would occasionally be called upon to take a patient - they weren't called clients back then - to another location. Naturally, she used a State vehicle for this and, naturally, they were all automatic drive vehicles. Her left foot would go nuts all the way to the other location, then gradually realize there was no clutch to operate.
The flip side? She would kill the car and / or chug all the way across the parking lot on her way home, until her foot remembered it now had something to do.
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