I had long told myself when I got my first good-paying job out of college, that my first major purchase would be a new car. I had been keeping the same piece of shit 80s model Toyota on the road since I was a junior in High School, and I figured what better ‘graduation present’ to give myself than a new ride?!

It was towards the end of the summer after graduation that I got that first, good job. I was working in communications for a big insurance company and my salary more than qualified me to finance a new car. I had spent weeks reviewing the newest models of the most popular makes and I had struggled to narrow down my choice. I knew I didn’t want an American made car, because, well, domestic cars are crap.

So I had myself set on either a Honda, a Nissan, or a Toyota. I had test-driven a couple of Hondas and I just hadn’t seen one I really liked. Last weekend I’d driven a Solara and a new Celica, but again, I just wasn’t happy with the Toyotas either.

So when I rolled up at the Nissan lot on Saturday morning, I didn’t really have my hopes up. When the salesman who caught me eyeing the new Altimas came waddling over at a hurried pace, my confidence dropped another few degrees. He introduced himself as John, then told me that most people call him ‘Catfish’ as he stroked his weird, stringy, fu-man-chu style mustache.

I uncomfortably made small talk and told him I was just looking. Catfish kept pestering me and I was just about ready to leave when he mentioned the new Z-cars. He led me away from the main lot and back toward the small show-lot that was underneath the building’s huge entranceway awning. There were three of the sexiest little sports cars I’d ever seen – the new 350z Roadsters.

I was immediately taken with the sophisticated styling and smooth leather rag-tops of the convertibles. Of the three – a jet black, a burnt orangish-sienna color, and one in a deep forest green – I was most taken with the golden orange metallic finish. I walked around the vehicle, tracing its contours with a fingertip while admiring every subtlety of its design.

“Have a seat!” Catfish instructed, opening the door for me. The tight, firm, leather captains chair fit me like a glove. I felt less like I was behind the wheel of a car and more like I was in the cockpit of some stealth aircraft. There were more buttons, compartments, and doodads than I knew what to do with. “Wow,” was all I could manage to mutter.

“You think that’s something, wait ‘til you feel her out on the road! Come on, take her for a spin!” Catfish encouraged me.

I feigned reluctance. “No, I shouldn’t. I’ll get hooked and this is really out of my price range.” Not to mention completely impractical. Nevertheless, I was feeling the need to get the car on the road.

With little effort, Catfish talked me into filing the necessary paperwork to take the car for a test drive. He even let me take it out on my own, so I could focus just on the car and not on the salesman distracting me while I tried to drive.

As I pulled out of the lot, I surged with adrenaline at the raw power I now harnessed through this vehicle. I wheeled onto the highway and shot up to 60mph