Ishamel wiped his brow with his forearm as he breathed a sigh. Held his favorite cap by the brim as he did looking at the engine of the sedan he was looking over. "Turn it!" He yelled up to the driver and within seconds the engine roared to life, good as new. Breathing a relieved sigh, Ishmael closed the hood of the car and grabbed his toolbox as the middle-aged owner thanked him excessively and passed him a wad of bills as a reward. He didn't know if there was still value in the American dollar at present but the man seemed pretty insistent so he accepted it with a nod and wished the man and his family luck before returning to his idle 1968 Dodge Charger. Even though he had managed to fix the man's car it still didn't change the fact that they were all still stuck on the freeway. At the very least now he he didn't have to worry about being stuck behind a broken down car.

He had spent at least twenty minutes fixing that sedan and the traffic hadn't budged an inch. Up a ways from his car he could see some men getting into an argument. Just great now things were getting violent. His eyes trailed to the glovebox and he hesitated whether or not to open it and retrieve what was inside, but eventually decided against it. "Just in case..." He muttered to himself pulling out a Djarum Black cigar from his jacket pocket and lighting it with his cheap plastic lighter. The familiar taste of the clove cigar filled his mouth and he smoothly blew out a stream of smoke out side of his window. Hopefully the traffic would clear up soon.