How strange it was today to take
the younger of our two cars, this one
soon to be ten, but low milage
by anyone’s standards,
under 2,000 miles a year,
to the dealer after needing
a jump start on a battery less
than a year old, and knowing from
a lifetime of such visits the havoc
they wreak on your wallet, and then
waiting more than two hours,
hearing nothing at a labor rate
of $65 per hour. But that was
not what made it strange, that
came in the form of the always
cheerful service advisor who said
“there was a bad cell in the battery,
but since you bought it from us
and it is under warranty, we
replaced it and gave you a new warranty.”
When she handed me the keys
and a zero dollar work order I knew
this day was one for the books, or
at least one for a poem, but why,
didn’t I stop and play the lottery?