My very high mileage automobile/mobile home suffered a fainting spell this evening at a busy intersection. It was bucking a little as we sat stopped with my foot down hard on the brake pedal. When the light turned green, I hit the gas. The only response was all the warning lights coming on at the same time. The driver behind me honked. The driver beside me, a small man eating a fried chicken leg, who was also stopped, must have noticed my distress. He jumped out to help by pushing his shoulder against my trunk. I popped it into neutral, tried the ignition again, and this time it caught. Thanks a lot, buddy, I said through my open window. You bet, brother, he replied. He was still holding the chicken bone.
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