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In This Issue
Chicks dig the car
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Calendar Girl Contest!
$1000 Grand Prize |
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Classic Car Community is looking for the next
Classic Car Calendar Girl. This contest is open to all members. Submit your poses with your favorite classic and you could be chosen to represent your community on the first of many calendars to come ... more
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| Tons of Car Clubs! |
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Did you know, we have a giant list of car clubs that span across the country? Simply select your state from the map and the list populates below. You can also narrow it down further by make and model.
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Chicks dig the car! Part 2
With great power, comes great responsibility…everybody knows that, right? I say this because even though we all know the ladies love our cars, we need to acknowledge that our cars have power…not just horsepower, but the power of attraction! Many of you have read my first story about chicks digging my car, if not, click here. That was a story about a good time, here is a story about…not necessary a bad time…but a crazy time.
It began with the infamous ’66 Mercury Cyclone and the 428 SCJ engine that put out more than 500 horse power. So my pun about great power, great responsibility really applies here.
My buddy and I were driving with the top down, the sun was out and it was a casual Saturday in Tucson, Arizona. We were driving along and came up on some traffic. As we approached the traffic, we noticed one car immediately. It was an Isuzu Amigo with a pretty blonde driving and a redhead sitting shotgun. We drove along for a while, I moved ahead of them, they move ahead of us, smiling ensues, you know…the normal drill. Then I shot the pocket.
Get your head out of the gutter guys, a “pocket” opened up which meant I was able to pass the ladies to my right by downshifting and missing the car that was in front of me. I saw the pocket and thinking I was going to impress the ladies, I down shifted and gunned it. What I thought was going to be a simple pass, turned out to me cutting them off. I mean, they had to break hard to let me through. Embarrassed that my move didn’t work out they way I wanted, I kept it floored and took off. Sorry ladies.
The story doesn’t end there. Later that night, the boys and I got ready for a night on the town. There were four of us and we took the Cyclone to a new bar that we don’t normally go to. As we pulled in to the parking lot, sure enough I see the Isuzu Amigo. “Is that?...no…it is!” We went in the bar and saw the ladies sitting at a table on the other side of the room. We ordered our drinks and then contemplated if we should do anything. Of course, many ideas ran through our mind. One of my favorites was trying to time our trips to the restroom so that I would cut her off walking down the hallway. Another was cutting in front of them when ordering another beer. But I elected to send a drink over with a note that says “Sorry about cutting you off.” Trust me, I heard it from my guys, “Nobody send drinks over anymore…you are so lame…why don’t I just smack you and call you Shirley?” The last one didn’t make sense, but still funny.
Now we wait. We see the waitress get the drinks. We see her walk over to their table. We see her put the beers down. We see her motion to us. We quickly look away. Then I ask my friend what’s going on? “They are coming over!” Under my breath, “chicks dig the car!”
I would like to say that we had a fun night with the ladies, but they were crazy. Not that we blame it on bad parenting, or they listened to dark music, or watched too many killer movies…they were just plain crazy. Now we had to figure out how we were going to get the hell out of there. I will continue this story another time.
Just remember, with great power comes great responsibility.
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