In the back room of Alger’s “Sunoco-Full Service”, the mechanics used profanity like a medicinal tonic; temporarily relieving pain brought on suddenly and without notice; as severely rusted bolts, succumbed the wrench and knuckles busted as they impacted cold iron. Profanity too was used to play up late night dalliances, clandestine rendezvous and various exploits, the meaning of which I wouldn’t fully grasp until my high school years. The small, paned windows were covered with decades of splattered grease and grim. The room was dimly lit and smelt of burnt oil; oddly sweet...more
