Handle with car

So after driving to Oxford and back last Friday, I took my Renault 5 in for servicing on Saturday morning. It's been a bit reluctant to start on damp mornings recently, with the most traumatic non-starter being a couple of weeks ago when it sounded deader than a coffin-nail (see, there's the Hallowe'en-themed bit, because I value my goth readership) and the guy next door scorched my jump-leads by putting them on backwards, and it took a friendly roofer to come and sort us all out; but then, the guy next door had just had a baby, so really it was good of him to help at all. His wife, that is, had had a baby. Not him. This isn't that sort of story!

( I'm not sure what sort of story it is, really, though, but let's see where it goes )