My old MX-6 – bought her on the cheap because of a leak in the power-steering (which the woman who owned it didn’t even recognize – topped it off, and didn’t even bother repairing that piece for six months), used to go like stink, and was great on mileage to boot, I chirped the tires on every corner and she stuck to the road while coffee-cups were flying around the compartment. Then the clutch started to go. Like an idiot, I forgot that I don’t have my own garage and took on a project that was utterly beyond me, given that I had to borrow space from my folks. Got halfway through the disassembly (clutches on the second-gen are a bitch to access), ran out of time, and sold the poor girl for scrap. My penance is the rusted, racing-striped Stinkmobile I currently ride in.

Was there a woman behind this decision to rush myself? You betcha. Was I old enough to know better? You better believe it.

You can’t rush quality – and a good cherry automobile will last you longer than most women.