My first real job was at a scrapyard just outside of town. At the time, I would have taken any job, because my folks had just moved away and left me on my own at age 18. Not only did I need work, I also needed a car and a place to live. This is why the scrapyard job was such a godsend at the time. I explained my situation to the yard owner, who seemed to be very sympathetic. He said if I worked the overnight shifts as a gateman and a watchman, then I could sleep there in one of the junked cars. I found a working car with working A/C and made it my home for a few weeks, just while I was saving up some money. For a gallon of gas I could turn on the engine of this old junked station wagon, crank down the AC a bit, and grab a few hours of peaceful sleep. This wasn’t a dump, it was a scrapyard, so it was mostly old cars, metal scraps, and bits of air ducts and old HVAC systems. After a few paychecks I was able to afford a little apartment, that had real air conditioning in it, but I was still grateful to the owner for cutting me a break. I am still working here now, all these years later, mostly out of gratitude. I still like to turn on the AC in that old junked station wagon from time to time, and crawl inside to take a nice cool nap.