Her Ford was stalled too danged close to the turn-off to Buford’s Gap. I parked my old Dodge behind her and walked up to see if I could help. Popped the hood to see why it “won’t start!” Good looking lady, she was. Long time ago.
Here I am again, different car, poking my nose under a hood filled with computer do-dads that can’t be fixed anyway. Only replaced. Lookit! Wires going everywhere and nowhere. Like life. Aha! That’s suspicious. How’d that get disconnected? Hmm. There, that’ll hold it until we get home.
“Try it again, Sweetheart!”
© spwilcen 2020
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TheProse 6/5/2020; spwilcenwrites “Snark Update – November 20, 2021”
Ramblings 
A nice one. Let’s face the truth, men can’t fix cars anymore without advanced training or a degree.
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Thanks for stopping by, more thanks for your opinion. Remember the old pickups with 6-cyl engines? You could stand in the engine compartment to work on the blamed things.
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