It was from my wife....who consequently hates the Buick. "It rides rough, it shifts too hard, it's too loud - all which I normally consider, well....compliments.
We went to a end of the year party (she's a school teacher) last Thursday. We took the Buick because it was a nice day and I get that priveledge because I volunteered to be the designated driver.
So after the party we head out onto the tollway. I used every bit of the on-ramp. Slowly rolled into it to get up to highway speed (which was achieved about 60' out of the booth). She basically told me to cool it.
So we're about 5 miles from the house and I plead with her.
"look, I have been working on this car for 8 years. You have been patient and supportive with my addiction. I am going to show you how all of that payed off for me." - "don't kill us".
About a 35 roll on a back street at 10:00pm. Put the plastic to the firewall. She grabbed my arm, door strap, anything that was bolted to the car. Her legs went straight out under the glove box in a fit of tension. I back out at "85 mph". "That didn't feel like 85". I didn't have the heart to tell her it was more like 110.
We get home, go inside and sit on the couch. She then starts asking me why I like the car soo much. Then she said what I consider to be the pinacle of what I have been trying to accomplish all these years.
"That thing is un-natural. It almost hurts when you give it gas."
Next week we will introduce her to the MT Sportsmans and the T-brake.
Pretty sure once I let her make a pass at the track, she will be hooked too.
She has put up with soo much shchit with me and this car. When people at school ask her what kind of car that is your husband drives. She is versed enough to say -
"It's a Buick Grand National"
"What kind of engine?"
"3.8 liter turbo V6 with an intercooler"
The shop teacher loves her.
We went to a end of the year party (she's a school teacher) last Thursday. We took the Buick because it was a nice day and I get that priveledge because I volunteered to be the designated driver.
So after the party we head out onto the tollway. I used every bit of the on-ramp. Slowly rolled into it to get up to highway speed (which was achieved about 60' out of the booth). She basically told me to cool it.
So we're about 5 miles from the house and I plead with her.
"look, I have been working on this car for 8 years. You have been patient and supportive with my addiction. I am going to show you how all of that payed off for me." - "don't kill us".
About a 35 roll on a back street at 10:00pm. Put the plastic to the firewall. She grabbed my arm, door strap, anything that was bolted to the car. Her legs went straight out under the glove box in a fit of tension. I back out at "85 mph". "That didn't feel like 85". I didn't have the heart to tell her it was more like 110.
We get home, go inside and sit on the couch. She then starts asking me why I like the car soo much. Then she said what I consider to be the pinacle of what I have been trying to accomplish all these years.
"That thing is un-natural. It almost hurts when you give it gas."
Next week we will introduce her to the MT Sportsmans and the T-brake.
Pretty sure once I let her make a pass at the track, she will be hooked too.
She has put up with soo much shchit with me and this car. When people at school ask her what kind of car that is your husband drives. She is versed enough to say -
"It's a Buick Grand National"
"What kind of engine?"
"3.8 liter turbo V6 with an intercooler"
The shop teacher loves her.
Bridgeport area. Also known as the end of the world! Come check us out when ur in town.
