The Corvette has always been close to my heart.
For most of my childhood and highschool days, the Corvette was the pin-up girl of my bedroom wall. It didn't matter what year. I loved the blue-collar roots, the unprecedented design, and I viewed it as the most capable Euro-car crusher America has ever produced. I still hold that view, although the US has been upping the game lately. While I have lost the starry eyed admiration of the Corvette, I still vividly remember when seeing a Corvette would easily make my day. I certainly haven't lost my respect for the vehicle, but I digress.
I got a job right before I graduated highschool at a shady used car dealer in Wenatchee, WA. I was making decent money for my age, and enjoyed what I did. I had a girlfriend at the time, and life was good. This C4 Corvette was my demo car through the spring. I fell in love with it, even though it had severe electrical problems (looking back, I'm pretty sure it had an exhaust manifold leak too). But I was in my prime, and couldn't be bothered with such trifles. So, I decided that I was going to buy it for the steal of $3500. About as much as I would be paying in insurance for it - if anyone would insure me at all.
The C4 was such an experience. That removable hardtop has spoiled me for life. Your ass basically scrapes the pavement, and you sit way closer to the back wheels than the front. Even though this particular Corvette was decidedly sluggish due to a lack of TLC, it felt (and looked) like driving a speedboat. The hood stretched out of sight, and you could feel it getting lifted up over 70 mph.
There are a few things that stopped me from buying the car. The insurance was part of it, but more importantly was that I realized that who I was working for should not be trusted. I worked for that dealership less than 2 months before I quit, and was able to get into a far better paying job at a much more reputable dealership. So, lesson learned.