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Smokin Black 1969 Mustang

Submitted by RoadSong at 2017-10-06 03:23:12 EDT
Rating: 2.0 on 4 ratings (4 reviews) (Review this item) (V)

She bought the Mustang for a song from the tow truck driver, it was classic and fast and beautiful. She loved the power and speed.

She did not like the smell of mens cologne and cig smoke that filled the interior when she drove home alone in the wee hours. She did a lot of night driving, she was young and single and loved good music and a party.

She owned the car for months before she told me she thought the previous owner was riding shotgun. The cologne and smoke were not unpleasant, but they were overwhelming when they filled the interior. It only happened once in a while, but when it did she would glance at the bucket seat next to her and expect to see someone sitting there.

I advised her to sell the vehicle. If you think your car is creepy, SELL THE DAMN THING! She replied that she had come to terms with the cologne. It was comforting to her that she had a man riding shotgun when she made the long drive up the mountain late at night. She drove the Stang for years and then got a brand new car and parked the classic Mustang in her barn and threw a tarp over it.

One day I had to put my Jeep in the shop. Parts for 1981 Jeeps are hard to find and the mechanic said it may take a few weeks to get the parts. Being on foot in this area is a huge problem. It is 40 miles to a shopping center from here. She handed me the keys to her Mustang and told me to "Drive it like you stole it!". She did mention that the car was fast and to be careful.

I declined her kind offer, telling her I would rather walk than drive a haunted car. This decision lasted for a couple of weeks. I went to her place and took the tarp off and fired that Mustang up. I figured if she could stand to drive that car for years, I could drive it until my Jeep was repaired.

Driving the Mustang was not difficult, but I noticed I really had to keep a close eye on the speedometer. The cruising speed the car liked was over 100 MPH. I was lucky the Highway Patrol did not ticket me. My theory is that if you are going over 100 in a haunted car, you are invisible.

I took some kids to the county fair and it was late as we rocketed homeward. The kidlets were asleep when we neared the curve and bridge over the lake. Without warning the smell of cologne filled the car and it took off like we had been standing still. I hit the brakes and got no response. I took my foot off the gas pedal and the Mustang went faster still. I knew we would never make the curve and glanced at the kids. Maybe I could get them out of the seat belts under water. I sure as hell was going to try.

I was gripping the wheel and trying to put it in neutral, I was trying to turn the ignition off with the key. Nothing happened except the car increased to warp speed. Here is the curve and the lake! I yelled "OH JESUS!". It was a shout out like when you hit your thumb with a hammer.
The mustang slowed down to about 90 and I thought there was a slight chance I could steer the curve. The Mustang slowed to 60 and I knew we had a chance. When we hit the curve at a sedate 55 miles per hour, I knew we would make it even tho there have been many wrecks on this curve and the speed limit is 45 MPH.

I handed her the keys the next day and told her what happened the night before.

The 1969 Black Mustang is currently on craigslist if anyone is looking for a hot car that comes equipped with a ghost who rides shotgun in the dark...


Review This Item




Submitted by ridiculous at 2018-07-31 20:02:25 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I remember this. :)

Submitted by Bubba2341 at 2017-11-06 20:45:55 EST (#)
Rating: 2


Submitted by St.Giles at 2017-10-06 17:12:54 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Without warning the smell of cologne filled the car and it took off like we had been standing still.

Must of been the moons magnetic pull.

Submitted by FALLEN at 2017-10-06 07:49:44 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

"My theory is that if you are going over 100 in a haunted car, you are invisible. "

solid logic.

Homer: I'm just a big fool.

Karl: Oh no, you're not!

Homer: How do you know?

Karl: Because my mother taught me never to kiss a fool!

Simpson and Delilah