Smoked by a Bonny
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Smoked by a Bonny
My reason for buying a Bonneville:
Once, when younger, dumber, and uglier than I am now, I was heading home from work at 11:30 or so. I was in my first year of college and had worked the late shift at the grocery store; it was midnight or so.
Well, passing out of the city and into the countryside around it, I was passed in a no-passing zone by a 1996 red Bonneville SSE. I was driving a red 1994 Grand Prix, 3.1 liter that I considered holier than all things. Needless to say, I wasn’t pleased at the actions of the little snot-nosed brats in their daddy’* Bonneville.
So I followed.
They sped up, just as soon as they saw me coming. I stayed on their rear, refusing to let this go. We went down through town around 60-70 (screw the cops…they were gonna see the Bonneville first!) and I did just fine.
Two miles into it, I could tell they were getting nervous. I was far more aggressive than they were (it was MY GP, their father’* Bonneville) and they took it down a back road. This was narrower and curvier, and there was sand over parts of it.
That’* where I almost lost it.
Doing about sixty, I went around a corner and suddenly the rear-end of the car whipped out on me. I went sliding down the road sideways, hauling the wheel the other way, and flipped it 180 degrees in the other direction. I jerked the wheel back and ended up length-wise in the middle of the road, breathing hard, and seeing visions of my near death flashing through my eyes.
That’* when I realized that an extra 300 pounds, two teenagers in the back, and traction-control make a difference.
I wasn’t going to let it go, of course. I caught up with them just as they were heading back into town. I pulled up next to them at a light, but by that point, they were done. I found out later, through my brother, that they had been terrified the entire time; my brother had a huge mouth in the school, and it was well known that I carried a gun. They were honestly expecting me to start shooting. :ROLL:
Anyway, I went home, determined that the next car I bought was going to be a Bonneville…with the i.
There'* a post-script to this story. This past year, a good friend bought a used Bonneville...guess whose it was? I got to drive it...and smoke it with mine own.
Once, when younger, dumber, and uglier than I am now, I was heading home from work at 11:30 or so. I was in my first year of college and had worked the late shift at the grocery store; it was midnight or so.
Well, passing out of the city and into the countryside around it, I was passed in a no-passing zone by a 1996 red Bonneville SSE. I was driving a red 1994 Grand Prix, 3.1 liter that I considered holier than all things. Needless to say, I wasn’t pleased at the actions of the little snot-nosed brats in their daddy’* Bonneville.
So I followed.
They sped up, just as soon as they saw me coming. I stayed on their rear, refusing to let this go. We went down through town around 60-70 (screw the cops…they were gonna see the Bonneville first!) and I did just fine.
Two miles into it, I could tell they were getting nervous. I was far more aggressive than they were (it was MY GP, their father’* Bonneville) and they took it down a back road. This was narrower and curvier, and there was sand over parts of it.
That’* where I almost lost it.
Doing about sixty, I went around a corner and suddenly the rear-end of the car whipped out on me. I went sliding down the road sideways, hauling the wheel the other way, and flipped it 180 degrees in the other direction. I jerked the wheel back and ended up length-wise in the middle of the road, breathing hard, and seeing visions of my near death flashing through my eyes.
That’* when I realized that an extra 300 pounds, two teenagers in the back, and traction-control make a difference.
I wasn’t going to let it go, of course. I caught up with them just as they were heading back into town. I pulled up next to them at a light, but by that point, they were done. I found out later, through my brother, that they had been terrified the entire time; my brother had a huge mouth in the school, and it was well known that I carried a gun. They were honestly expecting me to start shooting. :ROLL:
Anyway, I went home, determined that the next car I bought was going to be a Bonneville…with the i.
There'* a post-script to this story. This past year, a good friend bought a used Bonneville...guess whose it was? I got to drive it...and smoke it with mine own.
#2
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BEST STORY EVAR.....LOL
Thats the best way to be inspired to get a Bonne. I'm glad you lived to get one too. Now you can join the other "snot nosed" kids on this board. hahahaahh
Most of them own their Bonnevilles tho. Welcome to the party and thanks for the great story
Thats the best way to be inspired to get a Bonne. I'm glad you lived to get one too. Now you can join the other "snot nosed" kids on this board. hahahaahh
Most of them own their Bonnevilles tho. Welcome to the party and thanks for the great story
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Originally Posted by 89BonnieSE89
I'm glad you lived to get one too.
Oh, and I guess you guys haven't noticed the word "firearms" under my list of interests, huh? Maybe I shouldn't tell you...you might be scared!
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