J S Autobiles

Siddaiah Road is always loud, and we are right in the middle of it at number fourteen. We have been selling auto parts here for quite some time now. It is a small shop, packed from floor to ceiling with boxes and random containers. Half the time, I have to use a rusty ladder just to find what someone is looking for. It gets greasy and a bit crowded, but that is how a real auto shop should be, I think. People come in with broken parts in their hands, hoping we have the right replacement for their car. Sometimes we do, sometimes we have to order it and tell them to come back tomorrow. We don't do fancy displays or anything like that. If you want a part, you ask me, and I look through the shelves myself. It’s mostly local mechanics who come by, guys who have been working on engines for twenty years. They don't want a sales pitch; they just want the right bolt or a filter that fits. The traffic outside never really stops, so you get used to the constant honking. We usually drink some tea in the afternoon while waiting for the next customer to walk in. It’s a straightforward job, no frills. We keep the doors open from morning until late evening. If the shop looks cluttered, it’s just because we try to keep stuff on hand. This is just a place where work gets done and things get fixed. (253 words)