Pics ganked from Google Street View.
I'm sixteen, my elders are split into two camps: the car-hating and the car-tolerating, I have a measly $300-400 to my name and if that's enough to buy it it's not enough to get it in running condition. It's more suited to be a donor than a restoration project. Registration, insurance, maintenance. The number of hoops I'd have to jump through is countless and I won't bore you with them. It's clear even to my clouded adolescent mind that this is nothing more but a two-day crush on a car I randomly passed in a field stemming from the fact that I like old film noir movies and that the '41 Olds is one of my favorites from my favorite era.
I should buy it.
I'm only half-serious, but Oppo, it's up to you to convince me not to do this.