RX-7 Pics

I liked my car.  It was fast, it was fun, it was reliable, and it looked good.

An '88 RX-7 10th Anniversary edition.  White with black leather interior, turbo, five-speed.  I had a really nice stereo put in when I bought it.  It was just a classy little sports car that I really liked, and I took very good care of it.

These are some advertising pics:

Given the metaphysical auto-centered search-and-destroy mission that has been directed at me since I started driving, this car was remarkably incident-free.  I got rear-ended once, and I had an engine fire, and couple of hail dings.  That's it.

Until the 18-yr-old girl turned in front of me.

I was driving west on Campbell approaching West Shore.  It's three lanes each way, and there are two left-turn lanes from the other direction leading to the university.   The roads were mostly clear, but what traffic there was going my direction was fairly spread out.  As the car a couple of hundred yards in front of me went through the interesection I saw one of the two cars in the oncoming left-turn lanes turn to cross behind it.  There was plenty of room.  The car in the other left turn lane didn't go at the same time.   I watched it for a beat or two longer, to make sure it was going to stay.   Then I looked in my rear-view mirror for a second.

When I looked back forward, the other car was already halfway through the turn.  I stomped on my brakes, but there was no way to get stopped in time.

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