Like the "R" gear in my car.
That is not a metaphor, my car will not go into reverse.
I discovered this at the most inopportune time--in a hot car with my barely functioning air conditioner set to Category 5, stranded in a nose-in, downhill street parking space across from the library downtown.
It took all of my somewhat limited upper body strength and about twenty-five tries to get it to back up.
Thankfully our driveway is downhill towards the street because when I tried again, hoping my car had magically fixed itself during the ten minute drive home, no amount of pushing, pulling, clutch pumping or prayer could get it to go into reverse. It's like the gear is not even there and the car is just sitting there blowing hot air on me saying "Reverse? I don't remember having a reverse...maybe you're thinking of first? Second? No, we have always gone forward. Only forward." IT'S MOCKING ME!
I'm not sure what I am going to do if the park we have plans to visit this afternoon doesn't have pull-through spots but it will probably involve driving on grass.
UPDATE: Ryan fixed it! Car now goes in reverse. All it needed was a little canola oil and lots of swearing (funny, I tried lots of swearing and all it did was sit there blowing ninety degree air at me). Tomorrow he's going to look at the air conditioning because I think he finally realized I wasn't just chit chatting when I suggested I go find us a new car while he's at work. And by find I mean purchase. And by car I mean first station wagon I find with an iPod port.