Reliable Car

Yesterday I hopped into my always-reliable car to run some errands and it clicked when I turned the key. Dead. No radio, no powerlocks, just dead.
I added some water to the battery and it was still dead when I tried to start it.
That was the extent of my auto repairing expertise.
So I had to call my friend Elaine to come get me.
She drives a 1973 VW bug with 4 dented fenders, 3 paint colors, a sagging headliner, bumpers tied on with wire and 4 different tire brands. She also earns $65,000 a year, so go figure why she keeps the little deathtrap.
Riding in her car on the freeway made me finger the St. Christopher medal I wear and sort of sneakily make the sign of the cross a few times.
Now I know why some people kiss the ground when they arrive home safely.
And one more thing. It's never a good thing to have one's car arrive at the mechanic's by tow truck. Woe is me.