i can see that.
I was just imagining my best friend and his fat girlfriend in her Pinto.
A cringe worthy thought.
Her blue Pinto was a dog.
It was early 1975 and I had just bought a new Audi Fox and its second gear cluster broke and the dealership needed to get the part from Germany since it was a brand new model and few spares had made it to the USA. I used our current spare farm car, a 1974 Pinto station wagon with four banger and auto trans. The ultimate dog. A week or so later, some friends and I were bar hopping and after the third bar and fifth joint, road racing to the next town where there was a college bar. We were going through a residential neighborhood with narrow twisty asphalt road. Henry was ahead of me in his BMW Bavaria taking the 90 degree corners around 40. I was keeping up right behind with that Pinto slewing sideways through each corner. On about the fourth corner, the Bavaria’s rear lost it and the car careened about 120 degrees left across a lawn and into the corner of a guy’s brick rancher. I watched out of the corner of my eye and kept on truckin’ as did another friend right behind in a ‘69 Porsche 912. Later we debriefed at the bar. My friend driving the BMW was OK, the car was totaled and the rancher sustained structural cracks in all four corners. That’s my Pinto story.