As a youngster my sister and I would have to sit in the car when our parents went to do « back calls», after the door-to-door bit. My dad turned off the motor even in the winter (you couldn’t waste gas) and we sat there with our frozen feet which had already been turned into blocks of ice walking door-to-door in 30 below. For comfort we’d take off our boots, put gloves on our feet and laugh at our gorilla feet, waving them in the windows as cars went by.
Later when I got my license the only way to get to drive dad’s car was to go out in service. So during the summer holidays I went to the group during the week with his car. Six older sisters were assigned to my car. A sister and I went to do a call. She looked back and shrieked. With all the talking and discussing before getting out, I’d left the car in neutral and it was rolling downhill with the remaining 5 sisters aboard. I took off after the car and managed to hop inside with quite some difficulty. I finally saved the day by applying the brakes and jamming the car into park. The sisters were very quiet for the rest of the morning and seemed quite relieved when noon came around.