Burn it down!
Burn it down!"
I nearly dropped the gas pump handle because I was laughing so hard. I had been filling the tank at an Aurora BP station, when a 1989 Olds Ninety-Eight Regency pulled up beside us - sound system blaring. The car was a total piece of shit - obviously the remains of grandma's ride, passed down from grandchild to grandchild (with a stereo worth more than the vehicle). Its upholstery looked like an old velvet couch, and someone had attempted - and failed - to install dark tinting on the rear windows. The beater had no rust or body damage, but it clearly had seen several hundred thousand miles in its lifetime. It was...awesome.
Clatter, clatter, roll-roll-clatter...rif,rir,rir,rir...ririririrrrrrrrrrrrrrip!
The cap - having been loosened by the vibration - jumped from his hand, and rolled under his car, out of reach. That's when I lost it.
"I was just writing about this car, and it literally materializes in front of my house," I thought. "Is this coincidence? Karma? Or did I make this happen, like Richard Burton in The Medusa Touch?"
Whatever the case, I promised to use my powers for good...after a couple of quick pit stops beforehand.
As you can see from the pictures, my house is located on the corner of two streets - with an electrical pole very close to the intersection. The pole gets nailed on a regular basis (including this accident), and when a "custom" car hits the bark, the entire area gets covered in shattered plastic. That's another reason why today's custom rides don't hold a candle to yesteryear's cars. If a 29' Cadillac hit the pole in front of my house, the driver would be dead (thrown through the window), but the vehicle itself would have sustained only minor damage. Considering the caliber of most Aurora motorists, I'd prefer that the car survive...rather than the driver.