Plymouth Plaza

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I had a 1958 Plymouth Plaza for a while. There was one guy in town that would work on it. I think his name was Don. There were no signs for his shop. No regular hours.    Normal  0      false  false  false   EN-US  JA  X-NONE                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            /* Style Definitions */table.MsoNormalTable{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;mso-style-noshow:yes;mso-style-priority:99;mso-style-parent:"";mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;mso-para-margin:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination:widow-orphan;font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Century Gothic",serif;}You could call to try and make an appointment, but most of the time the phone just rang and rang. Usually I'd just show up. Sometimes I had to bang on the roll-up metal door and he'd come out.

He would only fix one problem at a time: It didn't matter if I told him 3 things, or 5 things, he would only fix one. I would have to come back another time and tell him about the "new" problem I was having, pretending that I hadn't mentioned it the previous time.

There were no forms, no receipts. When I'd ask him what the bill was, he'd say something like: "Just give me fifty bucks."