1n 1984 a friend of mine had a 1972 Cougar convertible with a 351/ 4bbl that the body was shot. The convertible top did not exist anymore, so he always drove it without a top. Even in pouring rain storms, he would just wear rain gear. We worked at the local amusement park running rides and would collect change from the seats of the rides to use as beer money. I figured out how to "shake" the cars a little extra during the ride and that would result in extra change in the bottom of the car and also would give us bonus views when girls came on in bikini tops that could not retain the taataa's from the extra side to side shaking Actually happened quite often. Doing this also burnt out the electric motors on the cars and the maintenance department was not happy with us. One night after work we were on our way to catch up with the female ride operators and after having a few "road pops" in the work parking lot he decided to do doughnuts at one of the intersections. After completing about 3 360's we finished the 1 mile trip to the bar. When we went to get out the doors would not open because the rusty car basically broke itself in half and the doors were holding it up. He continued to drive the car for a few weeks and just climbed over the doors to get in when needed. I worked at that amusement park for 5 years while going to high school and college and even though it paid $3.35/hr it was one of the best jobs I have ever had with all the extra benefits
I had my license about a week and was excited that my Mom let me take her 75 Pontiac LeMans to work at the local grocery store. After work at night all the kids would usually hang out in the parking lot, sit on hoods and a few beers would be consumed while mutual flirting amongst the sexes would ensue. When I decided to depart that evening I fired up the LeMans, threw it in reverse and initiated a nice smokey one wheel burnout, then while attempting to "Jim Rockford" the car in to forward motion I didn't see the parking lot light with the yellow painted cement base as the car swung around right in to it essentially crushing the right front fender and tearing the bumper about 4 ft from the frame. Everybody in the lot was belly laughing and I am panicking as to how I am gong to explain this.....Mom was not impressed, and I worked the rest of the summer paying off the repair.
The day my license came in the mail when I was 16 my parents happened to be out of town so I hopped into their 1977 Chrysler Cordoba with Corinthian leather and 400-4V, (400 smog motor still would roast the one back tire )picked up my buddy and our girlfriends, used my fake ID to get a 12 pack of beer and proceeded to stay out until 1 AM that day. My sister promptly blew me in with my parents but all I got was, don't stay out that late again. They knew nothing about the girls and beer
Once borrowed my moms brand new Dodge Omni. Was doing reverse drops in a parking lot to entertain my friends. Would pull the rear tires a few inches. Ripped the mounts out of it and bent the axles. Honestly mom, I dont know why the car wobbles going down the road. Dealer fixed under warranty.
The worst time I ever had driving, totally my fault, was showing off for my younger brother in my Dad's 1964 Fargo 4x4 short box. I was 15 at the time. The most fun thing about that truck, 15 inches of play in the steering. We were going down Eagles hill (steep 18% grade gravel logging roads that the logging trucks were pulled up, and down for support) and I said to George "Watch this!". We were in first gear and going about 8 MPH down the hill. I put my foot on the clutch and we sped up, extremely fast. All of a sudden, we hit a bump and my foot slipped off the clutch. Big bang sound? At the bottom of the hill, I tried to go.... lots of vroom vroom, but no go, tried second (Who really needed first in those old trucks, eh?). No go. We pushed the truck to the side of the road and went to get Dad. He got in, started it up and put it into gear. Of course, nothing moved. He looked at me, the truck, then the hill. "You were riding the clutch, right?" "No Dad.", I replied. Smack upside the back of my head. "That was for lying." "Yes Dad, I was." He wasn't mad about the truck even though it was his Bush Crummy. He did make me help fix it though. Clutch, pressure plate and vacuum advance, all shot. That was the only time I remember lying to my Step-Father, last time too. It was also the only time he hit me, but, I deserved it. Wouldn't you agree? Ours looked similar, but 4X4 with rust, steel wheels, and a steel tube front brush guard.
One time I started a thread asking why some owners don't drive their show cars and the replies made look like a complete loser. Oh wait, my bad, that was someone else.
