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Now that I think back to the time I lived in Oregon (also land of no self-serve), the attendant never minded if I pumped my own gas for the Porsche. Or for the motorcycle. They just handed me the pump. Then we'd usually have a chat about the car. Driving a 930 in Portland is like dating a supermodel (I presume--no FHE). Driving a 930 in LA is like being invisible.
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1987 Venetian Blue (looks like grey) 930 Coupe
1990 Black 964 C2 Targa
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