Grandpa decided to show off his drifting skills in a Zhiguli.
Winter, snow, slippery conditions—it's the perfect time to look for a cheap car "for the soul," or more precisely, for drifting. I scroll through the ads and find a red Zhiguli. The seller is an elderly man. I arrive at the location, and the atmosphere is like something out of a movie: an old man at the barrier, beating the carpet, as if it's just a normal morning for him, not a car sale. I approach him: "I'm here to check out the car, can I take a look?" He lifts the carpet and calmly says, "Look."
I tell him honestly: "I need it for drifting." The old man doesn't even bat an eye. He opens the trunk, throws the carpet in, and says, "I was into drifting too when I was younger." And then I realize this isn't going to be a conversation, it's a demonstration.
I ask: "Will you show me what it can do?" The old man opens the driver's door, gets in, and warns: "Look, only summer tires." He starts the car, revs the engine, and takes off. But on the first turn, everything goes wrong: the car skids, the old man loses control, and the Zhiguli crashes sideways into a car parked on the side of the road.
I run to him and open the door. "Are you alive?!" The old man clutches his head and calmly replies, "Yeah, I just hit my head... are you going to take me?" After that, I realized the old man was a legend.
I say, "I will. Let's go, I'll take you to the hospital." I lead him to my car, and on the way, he manages to ask, "I hope you have winter tires?"