He turned it around and pointed to three different spots with a plastic pen.

I signed on the dotted lines.

He handed me a single key on a plastic tag.

“The license plate is on the tag,” he said.

“Return it with a full tank.”

I walked out to the lot and found a silver four-door sedan.

It smelled strongly of industrial carpet cleaner.

I started the engine, adjusted the mirrors, and drove out to the strip mall at the edge of town.