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About Nagoya

I had one, ‘92 model, red, rust everywhere. Hated it, loved it, complicated mess. Drove it to the woods, just me, no people - perfect. Thing rattled like a skeleton in a storm, made me wanna punch somethin’. But! Got me where I needed, never cared bout gas, sipped it like fine whiskey. Fun fact - they made a convertible version, who the hell thought that was smart? Roof leaks, wind screamin’, pure chaos - hilarious disaster.

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As I’m leaving the shrine, I bump into an old friend. We haven’t seen each other in ages! We start catching up, and it’s all laughs and good vibes. But then, I remember I left my phone on the bench at the park. Panic mode activated! I sprint back, heart racing.