(hope the second time is a charm!)
Yea, I really do drive a Geo Metro and I’m getting just a little SICK of folks not giving ‘Little G’ (as I fondly call it) the respect it deserves. People really don’t know what they’re doing when they diss Little G–they’re messing with a thermo-freakin-nuclear bomb that’s just DYING for a chance to open up a can of whupass on their scrawny, SUV-driving butts. Consider the following:
Little G is agile. We’re not talking normal, run-of-the-mill car agility here either–this is unnatural, gawd-like dexterity. Say you’re trooping down the road and you hear a small thump. “What was that,” you’d probably ask yourself, “a bump in the road?” Then you’d probably just continue on down the road, listening to ‘Zamphir–Master of the Pan Flute’ or some other shit on the radio; hell, you probably wouldn’t even hear the small click as your rear door opened. You damn sure would wake the hell up though when you glanced in your rear view mirror and saw Little G coming for your ass from the back seat like a 3-cyclinder ninja/car straight out of hell!<insert Psycho-esque music here>. “No problem,” you’re probably saying, “I’ll just lock the doors.” Yea, like that’d stop the Geo. I’ve got news for you bub, the Geo could be ANYWHERE! It could be clinging to your rear bumper, it could be slowly crawling along your roof, it could even be hiding in your wheelwell and you’d never know it until you exit your behemoth. Then it’s BAM–right in the kisser for you! Game over, end of story. Fear the Geo.
The Geo runs on air and good karma. No really, it’s true. I don’t even know where the gas cap is on Little G; hell, I don’t even know if it has a gas cap! I could travel to Alpha Centauri and back multiple times and not even use a quarter tank.
Driving the Geo has made me a fearless badass. You have to have nerves of steel to drive something that a small sparrow could turn into a flaming wreck. No namby-pamby airbags or steel frame construction for me–no sir. I’ll leave all that safety crap to you whining wussy crybabies out there. Real men drive Geo’s and laugh at death!
I have also developed massive arms from driving the Geo. You have to have a lot of upper body strength when your vehicle starts jumping around like an oompa loompa with his ass on fire every time you get above 65 mph! I’ve actually had great fun screaming at passengers “I can’t hold it, we’re breaking up!” whenever I pass a semi. It takes sheer willpower to get past a semi, especially on the Interstate because you sure don’t have the horsepower to do it.
So my question for y’all is: with it’s cat-like grace, incredibly long range and the fact its driver is a muscular, steely-eyed maniac who fears nothing, what’s NOT to fear about the Geo? So the next time you hear that high-pitched whine which can only come from an over-reving 3-cylinder engine get the hell outta the way 'cause a Geo’s coming through, baybee!
<please don’t tell me I need to insert any smirkies here>
I LAUGH AT DEATH!!! I AM BEYOND YOUR PETTY CONCERNS FOR SAFETY AND WELL-BEING!! I HAVE 3 CYLINDER’S OF WHIRLING DEATH HEADED RIGHT AT YOUR FACE!!
As for tearing the Geo: you can not tear what you can not catch. You may think you have the Geo, but you do not. It could be behind you, it could be beside you, it could be in a tree above you: YOU DO NOT KNOW!
Sure, you don’t want to get into an accident in one, but then again, I don’t ever want to get into an accident in any car. If I’m that scared about being in a small car, I’ll just stay the fuck in my house.
I loved my Metro. Second-best car I ever owned, out of six. Safe, reliable, handles remarkably well in Salt Lake City winters, efficient, and surprisingly comfortable for my 6’2" frame, with plenty of headroom.
'Nuther Metro owner here. & Here’s my car service story:
Well, whilst I was out of the country, I let a good friend take care of my beloved 1998 Metro. Also, whilst I was out of country, same friend transferred from California to Mississippi. I gave him my written permission (to fend off any chance of him getting shafted for the vehicle not being registered to him) to keep the vehicle back East. Next thing you know, I’m back in America and decide to fly East and fetch my car. Pal insists on him paying for one of those quick-lube oil changes downtown. We go there and I tell the attendant the car’s model and year. Attendant comes back and tells me, “We don’t have any data for a 1998 Geo.” I look at him and say, “Could be because it’s not a Geo; it’s a Chevrolet.” After attendant left, I said to my pal, “Gee, you’d’ve thought the Chevy flash on the hood would’ve clued him in.”
Guess not. Like you said, Metros don’t get any respect.
Coldie, for what it’s worth, the Swift was sold stateside as well. Nearly the same car, different names. There was a third as well . . . little help anyone?
Hey! Don’t go dissing some of those lawnmower engines! They can be pretty tough!
Ho boy–that was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. The Hooters girls posing by the studmobile really take the cake…
As for the lawnmower crack: it’s not the size of your engine that matters, it’s what you do with it that counts (especially if you’re a ninja like Little G).
Yes, but what’s it going to do? Ram into someone once they’ve gotten out of their behemoth? Now there’s a collision where the pedestrian has a chance of winning!
Well, the Hungarian assembly line of the Swift also delivers this Subaru badged version with four wheel drive (!!).
And there’s even another one, but I can’t think of it now. I think it’s one of those old Eastern European brands that has a badged Swift as well. Dacia? Zastava? My Googling comes up empty so far. But there’s definitely another brand that uses the Swift model.
