My first car was a 1972 Dodge Dart. I bought it with my own money when I was sixteen. It had a brown body and forest green roof. Although its official name was “The Mallard,” I mostly just called it “The Dart.” I also sometimes jokingly referred to my car as “The Sex Machine.”
Trust me, no sex was had in this vehicle.*
There was some kissing, though. The passenger seat belt had a tendency to jam, and I had to lean over and yank on it in just the right way. I took advantage of this when giving rides to boys. They liked it when I helped them with their seat belts and felt compelled to thank me properly.
Okay, it only happened with two boys, but they were both mind-boggingly cute. Thanks, Dart!
*At least, not by me. But the car was already twenty years old when I bought it, so who knows what kind of action that back seat had seen over the years?