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About Essen

Drives me nuts tho—people forget ‘em now. All about Teslas, bleh, gimme that old-school vibe! Great Scott, once saw a rusty one, felt like “Anger” flarin’ up—why let it rot? Owned one meself—blue, beat-up, leaked oil like crazy. Called her Riley, heh, after the movie kid. “Fear” hit hard when the brakes squeaked—thought I’d crash, but nah, she held up. Quirky lil’ beast—horn sounded like a dying duck, quack quack, hilarious!

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Oh, and don’t get me started on that little hideaway, Kleinweg. It's, like, this secret alley behind an old brick bldg. Best kept secret – bang on for art, murals, and oddball gigs. People come together, sometimes awkward, sometimes brilliant, just like a David Brent management meeting! Ha!