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The other day I'm following the Schwan's truck up my one-lane dead end road. He slows to a stop, and I pull up behind. No signal - I figure he's checking an address or something. Blink - on go the back up lights and he backs up right into me. He gets out, and so do I, and he's all ready to get blasted. I look at the car and its just a little scraped paint and a busted $2.95 race track plate that I made myself (HALLETT!). "You want my info?" Don't worry about it - figuring he'd probably get fired. The Schwan's guy offered some freebies, but I don't need ice cream so I said no thanks. To me, that was a RAK, but i wondered afterward what the guy thought - relief, what a dope (me), surprise? Will he pass it on? Now if I'd had the 911 instead of the clapped-out 924 daily driver...
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1979 911SC Coupe
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