Lightbulbs: the key to magical cars
My first car was a Rover 100, a little rough around the edges, but a nice runner with a gearstick that had to be smacked into the passenger's leg every time you went into low gears. And one day, a headlight went out. My dad helped me open it up and pull the old bulb out; we didn't have a matching bulb, but there was one from a Toyota that fit pretty well, in the sense that a square peg fits snugly into a round hole if you apply enough force. It was also a lot better than the old bulb, in that it turned my Rover into a magical car that could be driven without the key in the ignition, so long as you left the lights on.

I was pretty thrilled about it, but since it took a fortnight or so before I discovered I suddenly had a low-rent Herbie I failed to cotton on, and took it to the local garage to see what was what. My dad and I both stood there sheepishly as the mechanic held out the offending bulb and said "Right, which one of you put this bloody bulb in your car"?
( Doctor Fruitbat wishes fruitbats could really be doctors, Thu 20 Aug 2009, 20:59, Reply)