In 1981 I owned a 1968 Cadillac. It was beautiful. Big boat car. I bought it for a few hundred dollars. My boyfriend at the time wanted that car, I am sure. He was always using me to get one thing or another.
I didn’t have the car long. My so-called boyfriend used it while I was at work.Most of the time he used it to take out girls. Yeah, great man. Anyway, I sold the car to some housemates of ours. (We lived in a pretty crazy place)
My poor car didn’t last long with the two people to whom I sold it. The car was beautiful, but had its problems. One night, while the two owners were using it for who knows what, the car stalled in the middle of some railroad tracks. Yep, a train was coming. The two men tried to get the car started, but no go. They jumped out of the car and watched as the train cut the car clean in half.
The back half of the car was on the side of the tracks with the two men. They ran to the trunk and started to remove all the contents. The police arrived before they could finish. What was so important they had to get out of the trunk? Guns. Unregistered guns.
Both men spent some time in jail. But my old Cadillac was finished. In two pieces; towed away.