Mysterious French

After I left school, I went on a trip to Southern Europe with two friends of mine. On a country road in Southern France, a passing car hurled a pebble against our windscreen, and the windscreen burst into hundreds of little pieces. We left the road, carefully drove into the next town and called at a garage. We all knew some French, but none of us had had much opportunity to use it outside the classroom. Needless to say, we hardly understood a word of what the man at the garage told us, although we managed to identify what was apparently a crucial word, the word ladac, but couldn’t find out what it meant. Little by little, after some repetition, we figured out that the man was désolé not to be able to do anything for us aujourd’hui, but that we were to come back demain. We went our way, still wondering what ladac might be. When we came back on the following day, the man really presented us with a brand new windscreen for our car. With a radiant smile, pronouncing the mysterious word ladac again, he pointed to a sticker on the windscreen. It said ADAC.