He had just bought a new car—a Lincoln. It was a big, long, four-door sedan. Some days, he would go out to his beautiful car and just sit in it. But he was going to the hospital next week for a colonoscopy; he needed to give his wife some practice in driving the Lincoln. She had to drive him home after the medical procedure. Because he was receiving anesthesia before the colonoscopy, the law required that he not drive himself home. She drove a Honda Accord, a medium-sized car. But the Honda was in the shop. Someone had crashed into it while she was Christmas shopping at Macy’s.
They got into the Lincoln. She moved the seat all the way forward. They put on their seatbelts. She raised the seat a little so she could see better over the dashboard. He told her that it was just like driving the Honda, except that the Lincoln had a longer hood and a bigger trunk. She started the engine. She moved the gearshift from park to reverse. “Now be careful,” he said, a little nervously. She looked in the rearview mirror, and started backing up.
“Brake, brake!” he yelled, because she was about to hit the three-foot-high hedge that bordered the parking lot. But his yell startled her. Instead of hitting the brake, she slammed on the gas. The brand new Lincoln went through the thick hedge, through a six-foot-high wooden fence, and right into the shallow end of the swimming pool.
