I draw the line at workout tapes by Fonda.

I got up yesterday with every intention of being productive.

We are moving in a little over a month and I have stuff to do. Important stuff. Plus, we had no milk, no bread and no Diet Coke. It was a state of shopping emergency at my house.

Finally, after a promise to get a Happy Meal, my daughter and I climbed into the car to get things done. Yes, M'am. We did.

Except for the climbing in the car part.

And getting things done.

I knew something was wrong when my keyless entry wouldn't work. I kept pushing the button because that is what you do when something doesn't work. You just keep trying over and over.

Nothing.

I had to use the caveman method of actually putting the key in the door's lock to unlock the driver's door. I climbed in, hit the unlock button for daughter.

Nothing.

Then I tried to start the car.

Nothing.

No clicking noise, no sound of effort.

Nothing.

It didn't even raise its fists at me.

We went inside the house and I called the roadside assistance service because have I mentioned that this is A BRAND NEW CAR?!

I then phoned the pizza people because I'd promised my daughter a Happy Meal and we are completely out of food, unless you count half a box of Wheat Thins and some hot chocolate mix.

The pizza arrived on time, but not the roadside assistance service.

We ate our pizza, which was delicious. I highly recommend ordering pizza in the middle of the day because it will arrive at your door hot and fresh. No one else is ordering pizza at 1:00 PM and the pizza people are just sitting on ready to rush out and deliver some gooey, cheesy goodness.

The roadside assistance service arrived after about 2 hours. I was at home, not actually stranded on the roadside, so I was not a high priority.

Understandably so. I would feel bad if he had zoomed by a woman with a screaming baby in a wet diaper on the side of the highway to come rescue me in the comforts of my home. With fresh pizza and all.

To my surprise, Tom the Tow Truck guy (who should be a new character on Cars, I might add) was very nice, courteous, and informative. He charged my battery and my Honda Pilot was up and running.

He offered to still tow the Pilot to the dealer or to follow me there. I decided on the latter, so daughter and I hopped in our Honda as Tom tailed us. He followed us all the way to the dealer and checked on us before he returned to rescuing other stranded women.

Tom suggested that, even though it was a new car, we could have a bad battery. I had not left any lights or other battery-draining gadgets on, so something was definitely wrong. I still had to wait for the Honda people to figure it out.

Y'all. I don't like mechanics. I always feel like they assume I'm a woman and I don't know nothin' about fixin' no cars. You could put waiting in an auto shop right up there with waiting a the Post Office.

In fact, my ultimate torture would be a convention for auto mechanics and postal workers held at your local public library. It would be my personal Gitmo.

But, this visit was less than torturous. It only involved a few used car salesmen and a lot of games of Tic Tac Toe.

Turns out, Tom was right. It was a bad battery. So, new car buyers, be warned. You might want the dealer to check that battery before you roll out of the sales lot. Ours was covered under warranty and I was fortunate enough to have roadside assistance.

And a helpful tow truck driver named Tom.