My friendly car
Brigitte Lietz

A long time ago, my daughter was a teenager and came home with her first boyfriend. I was laying in bed with the flu. The boyfriend and my daughter came into my bedroom and asked how I was feeling, what they could do to help me, and if I needed groceries. Yes, I needed a lot of the regulars like milk and bread.

I have to tell you. I had just got my first car, a yellow ten year old Renault with a long gun-handle gearshift, but paid for in cash. Germans call this kind of car "the ugly yellow duck". I was very proud of this car.

My daughter's boyfriend had his driver's license for one year and asked for my car. I got him the car key and some money as well as the shopping list. With a big smile he left the room.

About 15 minutes later I heard a noise and thought, "that was going fast". The smile was gone and he said, "The car won't start."

"How can that be? My car never lets me down." I asked him, "What have you done with my car? Did you kick it?"

He said, "Yes, but not at first. I think it needs gas."

"I don't think so, the tank is half-full." I put on my jogging suit and went out with them. I stroked my car and said, "Don't be mad, I'll try it again". I turned the key and it ran.

The boyfriend and my daughter made big round eyes and started laughing about this funny car. They got the groceries and when they came home, they were still laughing.