Dodi Khalil’s eclectic dealership is an international sensation and a Car Week destination.

Dodi pauses for a moment and crinkles his eyes in thought. “I don’t even know how many cars we have,” he finally admits. “I used to.”

Stricken classics and pieces of classics are wedged in a narrow lot outside a showroom barely large enough to fit two cars, one of them a dazzling 1964 Mini Cooper. Not every vehicle up for sale is rusted or missing parts, but the owner of Dodi Auto Sales in Monterey buys or takes in trade anything. No doors, no engine, no windows? Not a problem.

Business has been so good, Dodi added a second, larger location a few blocks closer to downtown, also on Del Monte. Articles about him and the shop have appeared in publications as distant as Germany and Spain. And he’s an annual fixture on one of television’s most popular collector car programs.

Dodi has a last name – it’s Khalil – but to collectors around the world, he’s the singular Dodi. The dealership gained fame for its unusual business model and eclectic selection, as well as Dodi’s honed sense for what collectors keen to restore classics are looking for at a particular moment. There’s a 1953 Mercedes-Benz 300D Adenauer that could use a grill, paint and other parts. The 1960 Austin-Healey Bugeye Sprite lacking some important bits (engine, drivetrain, seats) sold quickly, as did a 1979 AMC Pacer.

Dodi stocks some immaculate models. On a Thursday afternoon with Car Week approaching, a coveted 1961 Mercedes 220 SE coupe rolls onto the lot, and it’s in fine condition.

“It came in while we were talking,” he observes. “That car is worth half a million. Wayne’s eyes are going to go,” following up the prediction with a popping gesture.

The Wayne in question is Wayne Carini, host of Chasing Classic Cars, who makes an annual pilgrimage to Dodi with television crew in tow to find a car suitable for display at Seaside’s Concours d’Lemons. The visits began six or seven years ago, when Carini laid down $200 for a Volvo 1800ES that was a sensation. The British publication Moss Motoring referred to the car as “an abomination.”

“I know my dad is funny, but when I see him on TV – ‘Wow, you’re a personality,’” says Aminah Khalil, one of Dodi’s daughters who helps at the dealership along with the rest of the family. When she was 5, Khalil sold two cars in a day. Recently she tracked down six Broncos in a garage, for some reason stacked one on top of another like an aimless sculpture.

“Nobody has a title,” she points out. “That’s the thing about a family business – we’re all Dodis some days.”

Born in a Palestinian refugee camp, Dodi grew up in Saudi Arabia, where his father found work as a pharmacist. He arrived on the Monterey Peninsula in 1985, finishing his senior year at Pacific Grove High School. He had an eye on a career.

“I took a course in hotel management and found out it’s not my cup of tea,” Dodi says. “But I always loved cars.” His eyes wander around the lot for a moment. “And cars love me.”

Dodi Auto Sales has been a constant for three decades – almost. Once a new landlord booted the business from its handy corner. Within a year, however, another buyer purchased the space and offered it back to Dodi.

His fame in the classic car world is a more recent phenomenon. Dodi credits his children – particularly his son Ali – for boosting the family business’ reach.

Ali Khalil turned to YouTube, creating videos that document each car on the lot extensively, with narration on its condition inside and out. “Two or three pictures, you can’t sell a car,” Dodi says, shaking his head. “He brought the business to a different level.” His children also made the dealership available on social media, something Dodi says is “not my school.”

It’s the nature of Dodi to recognize others for the success of his business. His manner is humble and easygoing.

Dodi does not collect cars himself, explaining that “when you start to be a collector, that’s a different game.” His advice is to buy a favorite from the past – just one – and enjoy it.

“Everybody should have a classic car in their life,” he adds. “But you need to drive it to keep it alive.”