The car has – count ’em – 6 gears. While this may be normal for Jeff Gordon and big-rig drivers, it’s new and cool to me. Add to this the fact that you can clear 100 MPH at <3000RPM in 5th – so think about what that thing can do. The thing is so low off the ground, you can barely slide a piece of paper under it, which means you can boomerang around a 90-degree turn at the conservative pace of about 55mph (ok, I’m eggagerating, but when you’re used to an ’87 Ranger, the thing feels like it could take a corner that fast). The car is smooth, too. I can honestly say that if I hadn’t looked at the speedometer, I would have guessed I was going about 65 when I was at 105.
As you can understand, every hard-working medical student preparing for career-defining USMLE 2 needs to break up the day. You know, let off some pressure. Naturally, the TT quickly became part of my study breaks. I must say, those 20 min breaks – stretching into 40 and 60 minutes frequently – allowed me to return to my dull day of studying pumped up and awake. If I failed my USMLE’s, it’s because all Heavenly providence had been used up protecting me from smashing myself into elemental particulate vapor against some cliff or tree:
Gabriel – “Ahem, uh, good morning, Sir. I’m sorry to wake you, but you wanted me to notify you when Geoff went in for his USMLE test.”
God – “Go away. I’ve been up for 3 nights straight.”
Gab – “Ok, uh, but he’ll probably need your help with the test. It’s an all-day thing, you know.”
God – “True. So, when’s he leaving for the test?”
Gab – “That would be…RIGHT NOW. He just launched out of his driveway at 120 MPH. Provided he survives the trip, he should be there in the next 4.2 minutes.”
God – “Well, then there’s a good chance we’ll be seeing him here in about 5 minutes. If not, he’s on his own for the test. I’m going back to bed.”