Damn it! I am not an El Camino!
Everyone and their pee-happy dog thinks that I’m some sleazy El Camino from downtown Fresno.
Look, I’ve been at this for 32 years and 13 owners now. That bed you see? It’s the one that gave freedom to more than 1700 engines and transmissions that were picked out by Salvage Hunter. A California recycler that would buy 18 year old Granadas and Cordobas for $100 and sell out the parts to everybody’s Latino cousin.
I loved that work. Pat was my fifth owner and he made sure that I was given the best oils, filters, and OEM parts for my daily travels. I was invincible. INVINCIBLE!!!
Until he sold me off to some spoiled brat son of a Yuppie who thought I was a race car. Damn it! Do I look like a race car to you?
From there it was a couple of drug dealers, a grad student who wanted to use me for an art project. Whatever the hell that is. And then I got sold off to a smelly gardner who forgot to wash me for three years.
And then one day, I got bought back by Pat. His junkyard had been sold off to a couple of Indians and Pat wanted to find a retirement car.
He found it. He found me. Two years and $12,000 later, I am even better than my old self.
Just don’t call me an El Camino… smartass.
