The Stealth DeLorean

Sitting almost 5 inches lower and 6 inches wider than a 2005 Corvette, you would think my DeLorean would get noticed. You'd be surprised.

Some people notice it right away. Others don't.

The people who notice are amusing. They suddenly stop paying attention to the road. They point. They wave. They grab their girlfriend by the head and crank her neck in the appropriate direction to get a glimpse of the stainless steel wonder. After I pass, they're off to the hospital.

There are also screamers. Like the cyclist who nearly fell off his bike. After a quick double-take, he slammed on his brakes, pulled a 180, and rode right back yelling "HOLY SH*T, it's a DeLorean! Holy sh*t! I can't believe it! You've got a DeLorean! Holy sh*t! HOLY SH*T! There's a DeLorean in front of me!" After a brief conversation about the car, he asked us to do him just one favour: Open the doors. We did, to his immeasurable joy.

Then there are the select few who are clueless. Like the gas station attendant the other evening. I pulled up in front of the station window, beside another patron, and began pumping gas. We both went inside to pay. We talked about the car. He asked me what year it was. "1981" I answered. We talked some more. He signed his receipt, said goodbye, and left.

Now it was time for the attendant to shine. "So, what kind of car is that?" I told him it was a DeLorean. His reply was priceless, "I wasn't born yet, so I dunno what that is." Well, I wasn't born in 1908, but I still know what a Model T Ford is.

Despite being in 3 blockbuster movies, despite being made of gorgeous stainless steel, despite the gullwing doors and ultra-low stance, there are still people who have no idea. And sometimes that's nice -- to stealthfully slip through an intersection unnoticed, not having to stop and answer dozens of questions, to which, incidentally, I have all the answers.