The Great American Blog Post
And it was written by an ex-pat, natch.
…a Buick Le Sabre for 800 bucks leaving us 200 bucks. The car dealer, who was just barely this side of carny, threw some dubious Georgia plates into the deal. Looked like Dickie
Betts coulda been the previous proud owner. This was a special piece of shit car. The ignition key was not removable. Starting the car up was an exercise in patience. It was like a fucking e meter, a reflection of your state of mind, a big dirty American mechanical zen master. We took the car on the highway. The tires were so worn that when you hit the paint the back end would fishtail. We decided to take the back roads. Endless shacks with Caddys parked out front at jaunty showroom angles.