1972 Plymouth Charger

This week's blog is about a 1972 Plymouth Charger, 340, six pack.  It comes from my good friend Bob, who told me his tale from his high school days in the late 70's.  His friend, Paul, who owned the 1972 Charger, pulled up to Bob's house in Royal Oak and picked him and his friend, John up to go out and cruise Woodward.  It was a Friday night, they had been taking mid-terms all week and were more than ready to blow off some steam.

According to Bob, Paul was driving like a lunatic up and down Woodward (between 12 and 15 Mile Road).  Several times during their cruise, Paul's speedometer blew well past 80 miles per hour.  John and Bob were becoming more and more uncomfortable with Paul's insane driving skills and were yelling at him to "cut it the hell out!"

Paul suddenly veered down a side street, just off of 14 Mile Road.  When he got to a subdivision that looked dark enough, he drove up on some unsuspecting person's lawn, threw it in park,  jumped out and found a bush to pee on, on the side of some unsuspecting homeowners house.

Bob and John decided it was time to teach "lead foot" Paul a lesson.  Bob slid over the console in the front seat, John jumped into the passengers seat.  Bob threw the Charger into drive, slammed the gas pedal to the floor and off they went, across the lawn and back onto the side street.  John was helping drive by working the stick shift, since Bob was busy holding a beer in his right hand to shift!

They took Paul's car back out on Woodward and for 20 minutes, cruised up and down, laughing about what they had just done!  They started to feel bad about leaving Paul and eventually headed back to the neighborhood where they had left him. He was still standing under the stranger's window!  The odd part was, he was talking to the owner (a lady) of the house that was leaning out the window above Paul's head.  Bob and John quickly realized, the woman wasn't angry at Paul, she was flirting with him!

Paul said goodnight, zipped up his pants and nonchalantely walked back to the Charger.  He didn't even care that Bob and John had stolen his car, even though it was only for a brief joy ride.  He hopped back in the driver's seat with a shit eating grin on his face, cranked up his 8-track player, slammed the Charger  into drive and rocketed down the street, shattering the stillness of the sleepy neighborhood.