It's a Conspiracy

There is some sort of secret car society actively working to make my life difficult.

The shop called me about my car today. They told me they were having trouble finding anything wrong with my vehicle. It started right up for them. It didn't die. The manager told me he was going to try a few more things, but he was stumped.

I've been borrowing my sister's vehicle, an Isuzu Trooper. What did it do to me tonight when I went to get dinner? That's right. It died on me. A few times. I'm just driving down the road and it dies. I got it home if barely.

Why do cars hate me?

UPDATE: Okay, the vehicle is a Toyota 4Runner, not an Isuzu. I don't know why I had that stuck in my head. Regardless of what it is, the car doesn't like me.