Pretend it’s 1984. The DOT has just legalized flush headlights(on the Lincoln Continental Mark VII). You cannot wait for it to trickle down to mere Jaguars, so you spend $3,000 getting European style converted headlights. Then you take your saucy little tart for a little freshening.
Not the car spa for a happy finish. No, you go to the insanotron Sparkle Buggy Wash. WTF, dude? Is a $3.50 beating with brushes by high school dropouts (mostly) really worth it? I’m just askin’.
God, I loved these cars. Everything that was so right, and so wrong about American cars and GM, all bottled up into one effete and ponderous whale for everyman.
- The Seville (v. 1.0 and 3.0) “notchback” roofline
- The half Cutlass Supreme/ half tailfin taillights
- Bumpers that announce that your penis is made of steel.
- The plump assed French hooker rear end of the car, from delicate wire wheel covers (sometimes actual wire wheels) and the real men wear fender skirts to the subtle wedginess.
Inside was velour or leather(like) loose pillow bench seating for 4 (the other 2 were not very welcome), AM/FM stereo with 4 speakers, power windows and locks, cruise control and a clock. Woo, the lap of luxury. Just don’t try to turn, or pass, or parallel park, but man, do you look like a yuppie and a pimp all at once.
Give me one in the dark blue over dark blue, please.
Another day, another dude freaking out in the tunnel of love scratched paint and clean whitewalls. Supposedly, it’s over glasses. In my experience, dark, noise, meth withdrawal, DTs or the cocaine OD death of Kevin DuBrow are all just as likely.
HT: Winding Road
|Marge Gunderson is not looking for you, exactly|
Why? Because every Sunday in the summer, like clockwork, this late-20s chica would come by for a mid-afternoon vacuum and a wash for her little pink Ciera. She always put on a show at the vacuums, and always managed to miss a few buttons on her blouse when it came time to run the car through the tunnel.
Sadly, she only ran her actual car through my actual car wash tunnel and not the (awkward) metaphoric reverse.