I bought myself a 200sx after I got permanency at my job - a celebration of being single, having a good wage, and knowing it was probably the only time in my life I could waste copious amounts of money driving a fuel-guzzling attention stealer. I loved driving with the windows down and the sunroof open, I loved flicking the accelerator so the blowoff valve would flutter, I loved the deep rumble of the exhaust and I loved, Loved, LOVED the way heads would turn.
When I was persuing The Hun, many years ago, I sent him a few emails. There was rumour at the time that his parents had just bought him a new Subaru RS, a little silver bugeyed number, and I was very jealous. Turns out that that his dad had actually bought it for himself (gotta love the Canberra rumour mill), but it gave me an opportunity to brag about my superbeast of a car and offer to take him for a drive sometime. Yes, I realise how wanky that sounds - but he has reread the email since then and realised it should have been obvious I was pursuing him. We're both just as bad as each other.
The Hun got his license a year or so after we started going out, and purchased a lily white Suzuki Cino off a friend of his that was moving to Japan. I sold my 200 just over two years ago and got my little Swift - a sensible little runabout, black to look a little cool and already stickered to make it 'mine'.
Last week The Hun's dad bought himself a spiffy new WRX. A beautiful car that he won't let me buy a blow off valve for, as insistent as I am that his birthday is coming up anyway. As a result of this purchase, the silver bugeyed number has been sold on to The Hun, and as a result of that purchase, the lily white Cino has found him/herself a new home with youngest bro.
The moral of this story?
There is nothing sexier than a man in a REAL car*.
As you were.
*Obviously, I am talking about The Hun. NOT THE HUN'S DAD. THAT IS WRONG AND BAD. SHAME ON YOU.