I may have been prioritized, but it felt like a million years standing there waiting. Were they even coming? Had my mother called the AA and sent them miles away to junction 16 in Gloucestershire?
Peering down the embankment, along the motorway, I could see an SOS telephone about half a mile away. Walking to it meant a prolonged period strolling down the hard shoulder. It meant leaving my car, when someone could have been coming to get me. It meant trying to have a conversation while deafened by the traffic.
I stayed put. It was the right thing to do.
I saw an AA van approaching and waved like a lunatic on the spot. It sailed right by. An eternity later, the same thing happened again. But this time, the driver did flash his lights.
I learned later that, even with my limited resources, I had actually summoned help four times. My mother had placed the call. The operator had understood all that I'd said to him or her. Both AA mechanics had logged my situation, but they couldn't stop as they were answering other alarms. They would have come back.
Meanwhile, I had another pressing concern. As I sat there, something moved behind me. I saw it happen out of the corner of my eye. I twisted around, but nothing was there. Maybe it had been the shadow of a bird or some passing stoat. I don't know. But my mind said 'panther'.
I'd just come off Sedgemoor. The Glastonbury newspapers had been filled all week with headlines about a panther spotted over there! Your mind does strange things to you, when all you have to go on is a shadow!
It was growing dark when a recovery van signaled and pulled in behind me. I danced up onto my feet in relief, but it wasn't an AA van. They'd dispatched a local mechanic - Weston Recovery Services - to get me, as they were so busy.
The lovely mechanic checked on me first, assured himself that I was unharmed, then turned to my car. It started at once and gave no indication that anything at all was wrong. I stared in shock, but at least that gave us chance to drive off the motorway into the relative safety of a nearby Morrison's car-park.
For over an hour he investigated under my bonnet, under my dashboard, under my car. He could find nothing wrong with it at all. But he had a theory involving hydraulic tappets or some such thing.
I didn't care. I was back on the road and I was going home!
But my lack of 'phone worried him. He hunted in his van for ages, looking for an in-car charger to give to me as a gift. None of them fitted my 'phone, but it was sweet of him to look. He urged me to pull in at the next services and get one. I promised him that I would. Nevertheless, he looked so worried as I drove away.
It turned out that he was right to do so.