My first car was a 1978 Chevy Malibu. It was 1989, and I remember thinking I’d never need another car. I put a set of Goodyear Eagle GT+4 tires on the car (in this case, both the cheapest performance upgrade I could afford, as well as lipstick on a pig) and lived my best life. It didn’t last. I wanted more. Performance mostly, but also curb appeal. I discovered the direct correlation between the type of car one drove and the type of women one could attract. The 280Z was next, and again I thought, ‘This is all I’ll ever need.’ One great summer together and the Datsun’s issues came to the fore. A duffel bag of them. I wanted something reliable. Something new. And so in 1992, I begged my stepfather to co-sign a loan on a Mitsubishi Eclipse turbo. It was a quick conversation ending with a hard-and-fast ‘No.’ He’d sign for the normally aspirated version, but wisely knew I had no business driving the turbo at the age of 20. Deal. She and I had five good years together.
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