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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
I was on my way home from work this afternoon- sun shinin', top down, radio up, and feelin' fine. I was at a 4-way stop and I waved through the car on my right, who was signaling to turn left across my path. No problem. I actually wanted this to happen. That car was a very fresh looking Volvo convertible, likely the C70, or whatever...
"However, the C70 Convertible was far from being just beautiful. First and foremost it was an exciting ‘drivers car’ with almost the same road holding characteristics as the C70 Coupé, and with top speed and acceleration far beyond the figures obtained by most so called ‘sports cars’." Uh-huh.

'Twas a very yuppie looking couple in the car, folk I like to refer to as Buffy and Kyle. They looked shallow, and probably were shallow. One step away from having sweaters tied loosely around their necks (which would have been too stereotypical given it was 93 degrees and humid).

Buffy was clamoring away to nobody in particular (it didn't look like Kyle was listening). Once they were dead in front of me Kyle takes notice of my Via, and the look on his face was subtle, but priceless. Sort of like an early realization of, "what the h*ll is it that I'm driving, and why the h*ll aren't I driving THAT?!" Meanwhile, with a slight head tilt I look at him from the corner of my eye, a little grin comes to my lips, and I watch them roll by, knowing that he is suddenly having impure thoughts about his current situation.

Yep, I love this car.

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