The Accidental Concert at the Car Repair Shop

My car broke down on a road trip through Louisiana, and I spent an afternoon at a tiny repair shop outside Lafayette, waiting for a part.

The mechanic, a man in his sixties named Alcide, apologized for the wait and pulled two folding chairs out into the shade. Then he went into the office and came back with an accordion. His cousin, who'd been changing a tire, grabbed a washboard. A customer waiting for an oil change pulled a fiddle out of his trunk.

For two hours, they played Cajun music in the parking lot while I sat in a folding chair, drinking a cold soda Alcide had given me. People driving by stopped. A woman from the house next door brought out a plate of boudin.

When the part arrived, Alcide fixed my car in twenty minutes and charged me less than I expected. "Come back when you're not broken down," he said. I've been back twice, just for the music.