OMG, just came across this and had to chime in.


Back in 1997, I bought my Jag from a Continental Airline pilot in Pittsburgh. I drove from new mexico straight with a crappy dakota and a trailer. I bought the car and we headed back west. Now this was before GPS and I hit East St Louis and got off the highway for some much needed gas. At a stoplight looking for a gas station at 2am on a saturday night, I heard a gang start yelling, that man got him a jagwahh.. That was the last stop light I stopped at. Seedy????? Oh yeah, my mind went right back to Clark trying to get directions from cousin Marvin. That area is no joke so I know exactly what it feels like!