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About Patras

Drives like a dream, corners tight, but oh boy, rust ate it alive – pissed me off! Bodywork’s a nightmare, fenders flakin like dandruff, had to patch it up with spit and curses. Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” – ya notice shit others don’t, like how Escort’s got soul, not just metal. Used to race my buddy’s shitty Civic, smoked him every time, laughin my ass off – “Who’s laughing now, huh?” straight outta *Caché*. Loved the manual, grindin gears like I’m chewin gum, pure joy, man, pure joy.

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I pull up to the café, and the owner, Maria, is there, looking all stressed. She sees me and her face lights up. “You made it!” she says. I’m like, “Yeah, barely!” We unload the pastries, and the smell is heavenly. I’m feeling like a rockstar.

100% Greek cigars, the European response to Cuba (photos)