![]() 08/06/2015 at 16:32 • Filed to: seat lust, ford fiesta st, recaros, blurple | ![]() | ![]() |
Before me in traffic, I saw a blurple Fiesta ST with an Opposite Lock bumper sticker. I smiled, because I knew I had touched him.
I reached out over a million miles of fibre-optic cable and changed something inside him permanently, and I didn’t even have to use the prodigious horsepower of my single-slammer testament to the necessity of paying attention in head gasket metallurgy class in order to do it.
I pulled alongside him at the light, caught his eye. He reacted with revulsion to my dented, rusted base-model Subaru. I just smiled, the widest, most ridiculous grin I could muster. I could see the panic in his eyes now - he knew that I knew.
Weeks later, I saw the Fiesta ST up on Kijiji. It was for sale, so the owner could buy more turbocharged K-cars. He claimed his wife had left him, that he was finally achieving his true purpose beneath the great magnet. He lived, he died, he lived again. He spoke of a structure that gave him purpose, a religious vision of harnessing man’s most awful cars to denormalize a soft-edged society in decline rotting from its impacted bowels outward.
I sent him an email asking if he would part out the Recaros.
![]() 08/06/2015 at 22:11 |
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That was beautiful