I had a break-down.
Not so much I as my car.
I was reluctantly driving to town, fighting my way around the massive potholes when I started to smell something nasty.
This I automatically thought was the car in front of me.
Not so.
When I happened to look at my heat gauge the line was so far in the red that I couldn't even see it
and so I found a place to turn off, not an easy thing on a road that has the sea on one side and mountains on the other. But I was in luck and found an area as of yet undeveloped and for sale.
And there I waited for a tow-truck to come and truck me to my mechanic and, surprisingly, I was rather calm about it all.
My stomach was not, however. I had to go the bathroom really, really badly and there were none available.
All I had to rely on was a strong sphincter muscle to save me from the indignity of tell tale marks on my shorts.
So for two hours I battled the loose bowels and hot sun till the truck came and saved me and my car.
The car is still not ready and I, when I finally made it home to my own bathroom, didn't really need it so badly anymore.
Funny things, cars and stomachs. You think you know them and Boom they fool you.