I went with my father to pick up the moving van from the U-Haul place. They had been very nice, calling me twice, once to confirm, once to remind me that indeed I had reserved a truck for the day and I would be expected to bring it back.
When we showed up, the woman at the counter surprised me by affectionately referring to the truck as "she." I hadn't really thought about a gender for a 14 foot orange-and-white behemoth, but throughout the conversation "she" was waiting for us right out the door and "she" had been started up just that morning.
She was also apparently PMSing because she had an enormous appetite both for boxes and bins (which she swallowed without complaint although I had that inevitable sense of dread that the truck wasn't nearly big enough for all of our stuff), and for gas as well. She happily guzzled five gallons in about ten miles. She also seemed a little cranky, wasn't exactly responsive to persuasion, and complained a bit about the way she was fitting into the driveway.
I have to say that I returned her without much regret.