my Porsche. Some might say she's my alter ego: she's old but looks good for
her age, she's high maintenance, but worth it, she looks good with her top down.
I finally got her out of the shop. She had to have some work done. (The similarities
are uncanny.)
Sadly she was violated two months ago by a Dodge Ram truck. You know the kind,
big, black, beefy and stupid. The kind you expect the owner to step down from and be
wearing cowboy boots or worse, a wife beater t-shirt. We were waiting at a stop sign
to turn onto a busy street. After waiting several minutes for traffic to clear, the Dodge
got fed up and decided to back up. Apparently he did not hear the desperate protests
of her horn and just backed over her lovely hood. I may need therapy.
Over $10,000 worth of damage and three months in the shop. At one point the insurance
company was contemplating calling it a total. I'd like to see where they can find a 1990
911 Carrera 4 Cabriolet with 35,000 miles on it for $10,000!!!! Thankfully they came to
their senses pretty quickly.
I mean really! She's the real deal. Not one of those "Boxster-poor-excuse-for-a-Porsche
deals. I test drove a brand new Boxster when I was contemplating buying P.L.B. When
I slipped behind the wheel I asked the sales guy if this was a real Porsche (I had heard
some things). He didn't even answer the question. He didn't have to. The Boxster was
a joke. It didn't even compare to the BMW M3 convertible I had test driven. At least the
M3 was frisky, a bit loose, but she could get off the line without having to think about it
too long.
The first time I drove P.L.B., she caused an accident. Some guy couldn't take his eyes
off her and plowed into the car in front of him. Like you've never seen a blond in a
Porsche before with her top down. P.L.B. not me.
It's not my fault I'm a car snob, it's Russell's. When he first met me I was driving a
Nissan Pulsar, champagne colored, with t-tops and maybe 90 horsepower (downhill).
You had to will it to go but I loved that car. Everything changed when he acquainted
me with the philosophy of "turbo" and "torque". He put me in an Eagle Talon Turbo.
We did donuts in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot in Dallas. After that I graduated to a
smokin hot black Toyota Supra Turbo (also with t-tops). I confess I did have a brief
affair with a 1968 GTO goat convertible. I can still feel the double barrel firing up.
But it didn't have air conditioning and we lived in Texas so it had to go. And then I
had a long term relationship with a sensitive, candy apple red 300Z twin-turbo, with a
t-top, (having my top off is a very big thing).
The Porsche was love at first sight. I idolized that car in the nineties and there she was,
in the picture window, on PCH, in Newport Beach. She had belonged to some
millionaire with five cars, or was that five wives, I don't remember. Apparently all they
ever used her for was the stereo. She only had 17,000 miles on her. She was black on
black with chrome wheels and wrap around seats that hold you tight while she bullets
through turns at 90 miles an hour. She was fast but principled. Oh yes, she will be mine,
and she was.
And now just look at her. So shiny. So classy. Fresh out of the clinic, had her front end
completely redone.
Hey, I need that.....
This is my good side.
No! This is my good side.
See how good I look with my top off?
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