In desperation, I turned on the hazard lights, and my dad heroically took over, driving us to the café. The ride home was uneventful, and I can't wait to switch to an automatic car.

On my second try, the car played musical chairs with the hill, and my heart raced as if I were channeling Pavarotti. With opera blaring and my dad chuckling in embarrassment, the car behind us honked like a herd of angry cows, clearly unimpressed with my driving.

I tried the stop-and-go technique with the handbrake and clutch, but it was a total flop, like a mime juggling. The car slipped down the hill, just missing the one behind us. While I imagined the driver’s reaction was a mix of honks and curses, I was too focused on saving my dignity to notice.