Boring True Story Alert:
Fall, 1979. There was a street in Tulsa, can't remember which one,
but I assume it's still much the same, but it was about two miles of
car dealerships, and very little else. My parents and I were shopping
around for my first car, and I was telling a salesman that I was
interested in buying a Vega, because I liked how they looked. He
glared at me for a few seconds, and then told me he had several of
them, but if I insisted on buying one he was going to go get one of
the other salesmen to do it because they (the Vegas) were all
expensive engine trouble, waiting to happen.
I ended up buying a '66 Mustang, instead, in which I had all manner of
fun over the next 10 years, and spent $300 less than I would have
wasted on one of the Vegas.

If I knew who that guy was, I would send
him a box of steaks. You just don't forget something like that.