Sounds like a dream. I’d pack a truck with a portable scanner, a list of obscure titles, and a playlist of early‑90s synth‑drum tracks. The real thrill is the moment a dusty rental store clerk hands over a blank cartridge that’s actually the director’s cut of a forgotten cult flick. Midnight drives are the only time the road feels like a reel‑to‑reel, and finding that one lost Blu‑ray is the ultimate brag—until someone else finds it, of course.