Heroin With 4 Wheels

I instantly got flashbacks to when I was a kid and walking into the Columbus International Auto Show with my grandfather in the late 2000’s and seeing a brand new, bright red Mitsubishi Evo X sitting in it and feeling completely over stimulated. Then the flashbacks got stronger; I remembered watching a racing driver hurl one down a ski slope on a little-known TV show called TopGear, and then driving one in video games throughout my youth.

This is what happened when I was offered the keys to a modified Mitsubishi Evo X the other day at a family friend’s used car dealership called Huber Automotive. I grab the keys out of Bill’s hand, and I hustle my two friends, Jake and Liz, out of the showroom. I should state that neither of my friends have much interest in cars. Also, both are currently giving me looks like I’m having a seizure in the middle of a car dealership, which, uh, good thing that never happened.

Then my heart sinks like the Titanic, only this time it may as well have been made of lead. We walk up to the Evo and I peer through the tinted window. “No, it can’t be,” I open the door and see that the evo is a five-speed manual. In hindsight I probably should have seen this one coming; it is a rock hard, take no prisoners sports car designed to be driven and wrung by the neck, not parked at the local shopping center on weekends. Normally, this would be the toilet paper to my quarantine, (too soon?), but there is an issue. My stick shift driving skills are not what you would call adequate, or legal, so I would not be driving this 400+ horsepower, $30,000 rally car for the road. Not being one to demand chocolate when life throws me lemons, I reluctantly toss Jake the keys, as he is only one of the three of us that can drive stick well enough to not be a danger to himself or anyone else. Better than nothing…I guess.

We all pile into the much tighter than expected Evo, Jake grinning at my disappointment, at this I snap myself out of it. “I’m in a real, modified Evo X” I think, as a result my smile returns to its full mite. The two-liter four pot fires up, and the roided up turbo is borderline deafening. Now I’m smiling to the extent that I look like I’m auditioning for Joker. It takes me a second to remember what I came for, oh, that’s right!

I ask Jake what he’s feeling on an emotional level regarding our mutual Japanese chariot. That’s something I never thought I’d say. He responds by saying, “I feel kind of nervous, it might be more than I can handle.” I can’t help but laugh out of nervousness at this, knowing that it’s not my car, and having read about Mitsubishi’s, ahem, *stellar* safety reputation.

I am hopelessly in love with this car. I can feel the deep growly bass from the engine reverberating off the walls of my chest. We get on the freeway and Jake gives it some beans;

there is not much power before a certain rpm, about 3500. Then suddenly, like a lion attacking its prey on the African plains, ALL the power hits the wheels and propels us forwards at a pace I have never felt prior to this. We get to the exit ramp and come to a stop at a red light, Jake, Liz and I smile at each other. “That was awesome,” I say. “I never even floored it” Jake replies. My jaw drops, and I want more than anything for him to turn around and show me everything this car has to offer, but I’m here to gather evidence, and the owner would probably not appreciate that move.

“What personality does this car remind you of?” I ask the group. Liz replies, “that racecar driver chick from Wreck it Raplh” I turn and look at her like she just had a seizure in the back of someone’s car (doesn’t feel good does it?) she explains, “like really perky but dark.” My confused look intensifies. Jake simply is at a loss for words, so I give up journalism at its finest right here. We continue driving around the curvy backstreets and through small towns until we end back up at the main road and decide to turn back to the dealership. The turbo whistling along like an old cartoon character.

Just before we get to the parking lot, I ask, “What are your most prevalent emotions your feeling?” Jake replies, “I definitely have an adrenaline rush, and happy.” I couldn’t agree more. This thing stirs something deep within us, some sort of primal instinct, like getting chased by a sabretooth tiger, only in this case, you control the tiger. There is something so raw and menacing about this car, but at the same time, it’s not scary in anyway; completely controllable. You can tell it was raised with an attitude that says, “give it your all, no matter

what you’re doing.” Even when we were just going down the street at 30 miles per hour, you could tell it was straining at the leash, egging you on to go crazy and give it a boot full. But while it’s straining at the proverbial leash, you’re not going fast, you are confident that if anything were to go wrong you would be able to fix it and solve your problem. Like an already excitable yet lovable dog that got hyped up on stollen coffee beans from the kitchen floor and is ready to go outside and do some moving that is much more extensive than just stretching its legs, it wants to move, a lot, and quickly.

We get back to the dealership and I’m convinced this is one of the best days of my life (I’m not really that lame). I have officially become an addict; I am not sure how much longer I can go without another fix from something like this. We hop into our next test car. I can only hope I feel the same in that as I did in the Evo, and that was just from the passenger seat.