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Grimmest car to pick up a date in

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Lada Riva, featuring a nicely dented bodywork in multiple shades of "glasnost beige" and a totally shagged ozone carb which allowed it to produce impressive amounts of smoke whenever the accelerator pedal was used.

 

Posh girl was initially amused by me turning up in an "old man's car" (I wasn't an old man back then !) and found it "different" and "cool". She changed her mind when the condensor blew halfway through our journey and, as I didn't have a spare, we had to catch the bus to get to our destination...

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ms_cms's first experience of one of my cars when we started dating was a 60-plate diesel Mondeo. Predictably the twatting thing decided to stop being a car not long after, and the Council Estate sealed the deal; she likes it a great deal and claims it can't ever go anywhere as the latter half of her name is represented in the numberplate (E113, apparantly).

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I once "pulled" on Plenty of Fish (which is a bit like the AS of dating, cos it's free so full of skinflints). I had my Leon at the time, arranged to pick this MILF up and show her a good time but had to cancel when the engine started trying to rip itself off the mounts and the car was, in the words of the AA man who bought me home, "absolutely knackered".

 

I told her this little tale and all I got back was "Never mind, I need a man with a car!"

 

I also took a lass out in my Beetle. She was visibly shocked by vinyl seats, and without thinking I told her they were great because they were wipe-clean. First, and last date that.

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Picking up a bit of alright is a challenge when one's only (mostly) functional car looks like this:

 

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You mean that newfangled silver metallic I don't even know what it is? Gosh, I can believe that.

You should use that delightful Dolly instead. It'll pull the birds like it's going out of fashion.

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I have so far managed to repel the kind of girls that would look negatively on old and/or shit cars long before I got to the stage of taking them out anywhere. That said, the current Mrs 2MB did hint that she would prefer not to have a repeat performance of running out of veg oil on the M1 (lying gauge, mk2 golf gtd), pushing the car the last 200 yards after coasting almost to the petrol station, and having to help bump the bastard thing off, which isn't easy without a priming bulb or any tools

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Well - My first ever date never happened

 

Hand painted black Vauxhall Victor FE with (More) Badly hand painted flames down the front wings.

I thought it was cool. Even had Dixie air horns which I imagined everyone loved.

Pulled onto the drive of said intended dates house. Huge opulent place.

And hit the Horns! YES! thats fecking awesome (I thought)

Huge guy opened the door. and stared....and stared.... then I got out the car, waved, Come to take Emma out.

I said happily... he strolled over to me, and said - Take that pile of shite of my fucking drive and if I see you again.

I will ram those fucking airhorns sideways up your fucking arse....
:shock:

Needless to say, I took my pile of shite off his drive...... :?

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I went on several first dates driving variously a new land rover defender and civic type r which ultimately went nowhere. I flogged those to sort a house and ended up in a pog pink 405 dizzler estate that had been rear ended. That first date ultimately ended in marriage. Maybe that's when I became a shite convert?

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I had a C reg audi Gt coupe when I first met Mrs Oman, she was impressed with it, but aftera couple more dates when we got a bit more erm...physical....she said "it's a pity there isn't more room in the back."

At which point I casually mentioned I also had a Bedford midi van. She liked that one too.

To be honest I don't think I'd be interested in the sort of woman who judges you based on your car. (Mainly cos all my cars were shit)

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I managed to obtain a girlfriend who turned out to be a bit mental by picking her up in a Volvo 740 when her "boyfriend" wouldn't run her home one night.

A former mate of mine managed to have a really pretty, intelligent girlfriend AND a Hyundai Accident 1.3 coupe* at the same time, which is some sort of reality bending situation I've never seen since.

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There's a type of Van my sister refers to as serial killer vans; ideally an old Ford Econoline (watched too many 70s slasher films). Failing that an old Bedford Dormobile. *must have brush painted matt black on inside rear windows.

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This thread made me think of my prowess with the fairer sex.

Those I have picked up in shiny Gtis both French and German, a big motorbike or gleaming Black Cosworth....

 

Nothing. Sometimes a second date but not many thirds.

 

£100 Rover with a faint whiff of wet dog and a kippered head gasket.....

 

Married and now got 3 Kids :-)

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Volvo 360 GLS, with welded diff and rear dampers with a budgie-like call.

Try and park that, without the drive train sounding like it's rattling to bits - and then explain why you made the car like that.

 

She did love the extremely comfy seats, mind.

 

My stripped and caged Nova SR was not so well recieved.

Fixed buckets, 4 point harnesses and no carpets.

Throw in a sticking NSF Delco(?) caliper and it was a winner*.

 

Great thread, BTW. Some right funny reading, here!

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Can't compete with most of these stories but here goes,

I was 18 (in 1990) and the proud owner of a 1978 Cortina mk4, an ex taxi in faded yellow that had been round the clock more times than Big Ben's minute hand

 I'd really fallen for the Saturday girl who worked in the local W H Smiths, a literature student who I tried to impress by buying several 'serious' books over the course of many weeks, none of which I have read to this day, I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out for a drink and much to my surprise she agreed, we arranged to meet the following weekend and I valeted the Cortina to within an inch of its life but as none of the seats were the same colour it was still far from pristine.

 Anyway, collected her from the end of her road she thought it best me not coming to the house just yet and I suggested a drive down the coast to a quietish pub that my older, supposedly more worldly wise Brother reckoned would go down well.

 The Pub was packed out, couldn't hear ourselves think she was dressed to the nines whilst I was in jeans and fake Ralph Lauren polo shirt, the Evening was not a success, we came out of the pub to find it peeing down with rain and blowing a force 10 gale, lucky we brought the car I quipped, hmmmmm, came the reply.

 We set off home along the promenade and clunk, the passenger side front window dropped into the door as the gaffer tape holding it in place blew away into the night, the back drivers side window started sliding its way down in sympathy as it did every now and then so the breeze through the car was quite strong, rain was pissing in and sand was starting to follow suit, I glanced to my left to see my passengers hair blowing all over the place just as a sodden Benson and Hedges packet blew in also and landed on her lap, I wondered about reaching over and removing it but thought better of it.

And there Your Honour; rests the case for the Defence!

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