I usually hate car problems but there was one time when a broken auto was not only fun, but had a very happy ending. I was twenty-five and my little car stopped suddenly in a charming, tiny town in the middle of nowhere. The only garage was owned by a handsome, cheerful mechanic who told me it would take three days for him to get the needed Automotive Electrical Supplies and fix the car. While I was waiting I got to know him and, by the time I had wheels again, I was in love. I moved to that town and we still live there, fifteen years later.
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