One of my very best stories about my car, and one of the reasons I'll never let it go:
Decades ago I was on my way to a job interview. I stopped to get a Coke, and when I got back the car wouldn't start. No relay click, nothing. I popped the hood, checked the battery, started tracing wires, checked the fusible link. Nothing. I got on my back, check the cluster and column wiring, nothing. I started calling the car names. Definitely feminine names, and not at all polite names. I'm yelling at the car, and people are staring at me.
So (and keep in mind, I haven't touched a thing since the last time I tried the ignition), I leaned my head against the steering wheel and said "I'm sorry I called you a ***** and a whore and (expletives deleted). I really need to get to this interview. Please start."
I hit the key and she fired right up. Definitely female, no doubt in my mind.
