Another owner’s woes makes my car all the sweeter
Coming out of a downtown restaurant the other night, I practically tripped over a 1972 1800E sitting in the parking lot. I'm not sure how many vintage Volvos are still rolling around in your neck of the woods, but around here, it's pretty rare to spot one you didn't know about.
My girlfriend tends to roll her eyes when I get talking about my car, so she was bewildered as I raced back into the restaurant and asked our waitress whether she knew the owner of the car. She checked around, and it turned out that the bartender on duty knew the driver. A couple minutes later, I was interrupting the poor guy's dinner and introducing myself as a fellow 1800 enthusiast.
Turns out the guy was more than willing to talk about the car, which he's owned since mid-June. He bought the car for his dad for Father's Day, but apparently, dad refuses to accept it. As it happens, the current driver is not particularly wowwed by the air-conditioned, automatic-transmission coupe, which he says seems to be housing a few gremlins that make starting and operating it iffy at best.
I guess I've been spoiled by the reliability of my particular 1800E. Granted, his racing-green '72 was in much better cosmetic shape than my rusting-red '71, but I love the ride I get.
And now I really can't wait to get the dang thing's body into shape.
