“I feel that life is measured in achievement, not in years alone.”
“I feel that life is measured in achievement, not in years alone.”

A Porsche 944 S2 Cabriolet came up for sale on Craigslist. They’re pretty rare, and I’ve always loved the 944 and miss owning a convertible, so I e-mailed the owner. As luck would have it, he had the car at my preferred independent Porsche mechanic.

So I checked out the 944S2, but unfortunately, it required too much work/time/money to get it into reliable daily driver status. I’ll probably regret passing on it 10-20 years from now when the 944s start appreciating, but oh well.

I’m depressed. Not because the 944S2 didn’t work out, but I came across what was formerly my Boxster in the parking lot:

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Illustration for article titled I feel depressed, Oppo...

What did they do to the paint? Tacky pink stickers? Is that a Honey Boo Boo license plate holder?

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Illustration for article titled I feel depressed, Oppo...

The seats were cheaply reupholstered - but still reupholstered. Why are there leopard skin seat covers on it? Fuzzy dice? How did they do so much damage to the paint? A bulging skull license plate frame?

And to top it off, it likely has a blown motor. And with the car in that condition and used 986 motors going for over $5k, it’s getting parted out and whatever is left crushed.

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And now I just sit here, looking at the pictures stunned. How could they do so much damage to a perfectly running, well maintained car in just over 3 years?

Hats off to the guy that color matched and painted the hard top for me. Even they couldn’t mess that up, apparently.

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That 986 didn’t deserve that life. It would have been better off at least letting me blow it up autocrossing or taking it to the track, which I never got a chance to do.

Never should have listened to my girl. Never should have sold it. :(

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