Rocco story - My first one, and the significance of the ride home...

[maardak@yahoo.ca (Mardak)]

When my first car, a 80 Rabbit GTI died, I decided to get a Scirocco
(did Canada have actual Rabbit GTI's in 1980?) .  I looked for a couple
of weeks, and there weren't any in the local Auto Trader.  Finally
there was ONE ad for one about an hour away.  So, after looking at it
and deciding that the rusty floor "wasn't too bad", or the leaks
"weren't too bad", or the holes in the body "weren't too bad", or the
funky smells "weren't too bad" and the horrible shaking at speed
"wasn't too bad", I decided I just HAD to have this car.  Anyone with
an ounce of sanity would have run (fast) from that car, but
noooooooooooooooooooo, not me - I'm a sucker for punishment :-)

I was impressed with the car compared to the Rabbit - it was pretty
quick, and felt more roomy too.  The ride home in my "new" car felt
weird though - strangley familiar, yet different at the same time.  I
started to miss the Rabbit a bit, when all of a sudden, a mile from
home, guess what decides to jump out of the ditch straight into my path
- you guessed it.......... a rabbit!  It didn't have a chance - I
smoked it good...  I turned to my friend in the passenger seat, and we
both had the same thought - this totally symbolized the "death" of the
Rabbit (quite literally actually :-)

I've owned nothing but Sciroccos since (well, except for an unrestored
66 California Beetle that I sold for profit, so that doesn't count...
;)

Mark - killer of cute furry things


______________________________________________________________________ 
Post your ad for free now! http://personals.yahoo.ca