So if you ever smell burnt clutch and Turkish Royals on a cool summer night, pull over. Listen for the hum. Somewhere, just beyond the edge of town, the roll-up door is still cracked open six inches. And there’s a spot on the hood of a ’98 Civic with your name on it.
Scrap metal becomes seating. A gutted El Camino serves as a couch. An engine block becomes a coffee table for a lukewarm Monster and a Zippo. Midnight Auto Parts Smoking -2021-
Just bring your own lighter.