I arrive at MotoRex in Gardena, Calif. 9 a.m. Friday morning. I'm here to exchange our blue 2001 Mazda MP3 for a darker blue 1995 Nissan Skyline GT-R. I'm the only one here. MotorRex, which is the only importer of street-legal Skylines in America, opens at 10.
So I wait, drink coffee off a roach coach and listen to Howard on the radio. Hank the Angry Drunken Dwarf died, and Stern is on the tail-end of a weeklong tribute to his little inebriated friend. Beetlejuice begins to eulogize Hank just as Ken Takahashi arrives. Ken is the sales and marketing director of MotorRex. I tell him Beetlejuice cracks me up. Ken pretends not to hear me.
Swap complete, I ease the Skyline onto Gardena Blvd. and immediately feel conspicuous. People stare. Girls check me out. One hottie in a Bimmer even gives me the lip lick routine. I feel as if I've shed my skin and am walking the earth as Brad Pitt. No, make that Brad Pitt wearing a purple jumpsuit. No, Brad Pitt wearing Jennifer Aniston.
It's obvious my 15 minutes of fame have begun and will last exactly 72 hours, ending at 10 a.m. Monday morning when I swap back for the Mazda.
The R33 belongs to a teacher in Japan who drives the car when he's in America. It's 35,000 miles old and is for sale. $52,000. I doubt he knows I'm rolling his ride for the weekend, but I guess that's his problem.
Friday night is a blur of freeway traffic and a pizza with everything. I quickly adjust to the car's right-hand drive, hitting the wipers instead of the turn signals only a dozen or so times. I also manage to keep from grinding the car's five gears for the most part. I don't, however, manage to adjust to this particular car's HKS suspension, which has the compliance of a cinderblock. Unless you're wearing brown, forget about morning coffee in this thing.
I also wrestle with the car's Japanese sound system, which refuses to tune in the good stuff. Plus, it has a cassette player. Who the hell has cassettes? I bum one off a buddy who thinks it's 1980 and make do. It's either that or AM radio.
The highlight of the weekend is a run down world-famous Sunset Blvd. with some lightweights in a spanking-new BMW M3. I have to admit, the kid can drive, but let's face it, traction control can make anybody look good. After about five miles, snaking through Pacific Palisades and Bel Air, two of the swankiest towns in America, I tire of his high jinx, drop it down to second gear and get serious.Later.
I ease the Skyline onto Gardena Blvd. and immediately feel conspicuous. People stare. Girls check me out. One hottie in a Bimmer even gives me the lip lick routine.