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Discussion in 'The Observation Bar' started by Blackjack, Aug 13, 2011.
1941 Cadillac Series 62 Convertible.
I knew we met somewhere
Reminds me of the car in Mildred Pierce that Veda was driving. It's amazing!
I thought about that Tom, but I figured if she had a Cadillac she was rich and only wanted me as a toy....
Well okay, I'm game.
Heck if she's cute I could care less if we took the bus back to her place!!
She's driving a...doesn't matter. I'm likely drunk, and the last thing on my mind is her means of getting me home
That's easy. I'd be lost if she shows up with this one - a Maybach DS 7 "Zeppelin" from 1929:
She was buying me drinks hopeing to get me drunk. Well it worked. I just happy she is driving me home.
A vintage Rolls like this would do it for me.
The year is 1941, ( you haven't been drafted yet..) your in a dance hall having a nice evening out.
Hmm, lessee, an absolutely stunning young gal . . . buying me drinks and dancing with me. She offers to drive me home, I say sure because she's driving a . . .
couldn't care less what she's driving. I'm already sold.
buuuut, being a car guy i cant help but choose this little number.
Sounds like some stooge being set up for a fall in a Raymond Chandler novel
Oh Lord that Cisitalia Coupe is sweet!!!!!! and Mike that's what I was thinking when I first wrote the post LOL.
A 1937 Lincoln Zephyr - and I fall in love all over again !
If we were going to her place I would want to be sure we got there no matter what
...because she's driving?
Try because we're walking home together! Much more romantic.
Heck, I don't even know if I would have driven to the dance at all. Ever heard of light rail my friend? This is 1941 we're talking about, right?
Let me flip the question. The year is whenever. A stunning young woman who has been dancing with me and buying me drinks offers to drive me home and I say NO because she's driving a....
See? When you pose the question this way it becomes self answering. There is no mode of transportation on earth so lowly as to prevent me (or any other re-blooded guy) from crawling into the seat beside her.
It really doesn't matter what kind of car she's driving. She's probably just got me confused with someone else.
Well, as your story goes I wouldn't care if she was driving a Crosley.