When I first met my wife in 1988, her younger sister Helen was driving a 1982 Datsun 200SX just like this. And I liked it. A lot.
Introduced in 1980, Helen's model of the 200SX was a reboot of the car Datsun (now Nissan) rolled out for sale in the U.S. starting in 1977. Based on the new for 1975 Datsun S10-chassis that was sold in the United States as the B210, even it's impeccable build quality wasn't enough to counter its "what-the-hell-is-that" styling that, in my opinion, may have aged better than anyone thought it would back in late 1970's. Then again, to some, it's still butt homely.
After just three short model years of dismal sales Datsun unveiled a new 200SX on a modified version of the previous model's chassis. Just like that, the ugly goose was now a swan. Especially the notchy hard top models like Helen had although I wouldn't have kicked a hatchback out of my garage. Well, I say that now. When I was in my early twenties, for some reason that to this day escapes me, I was content to drive what my wife still calls, "Farty Old Man Cars".
My only time behind the wheel of Helen's 200SX was on a bright Sunday morning after I had stayed over at their house. A friend of Helen's had driven her home in her car after a night of barhopping but left it parked across the street from the house. Bleary eyed, nursing a hangover, and with the first smoky treat of the day dangling from her mouth, Helen asked me if I wouldn't mind moving her car into the driveway because her dad would have a fit if he saw it parked where it shouldn't be. Didn't have to ask me twice. I even offered to run down to the bakery and pick up fresh rolls and bagels. What a nice future brother-in-law I was.
It's hard to fathom now just how different that little car was from the comparatively brutish 1982 Buick Riviera I was driving at the time. And that Riviera, despite being horribly assembled, was a German sports sedan compared to the Riviera's its styling was inspired by. The two cars seemed to be from not only two different worlds, two different universes. Newsflash - this just in - they most certainly were.
The interior of Helen's 200SX, despite reeking of cigarettes, was all but jewel like whereas my Riviera's insides where a cheap, plasticky knock-off a wood-lined bank lobby. Comfortable buckets that held you in place and everything you needed right at your fingertips. Including the cigarette lighter and ash tray. Forget the trip to the bakery, let's hit the Hamptons (fifty, sixty miles away).
Much like the little Toyota Corolla FX I rented after I wrecked my Cordoba before I bought the godforsaken Riviera, at the time I was like, "I gotta get me one of these!" But of course, I didn't. I did soon after ditch the Riviera but instead of a hot, little Japanese coupe, I got a 1990 Chevrolet Lumina Euro. A step in the right direction but I still had a long way to go. I've amended my ways. I swear. And I'm a much better (car) person for doing so.
I don't recall why Helen eventually got rid of her 200SX but she was on her own when she needed another car; her father had bought her the 200SX. She called me frantically one night asking if I would go with her to look at a 1991 Pontiac Grand Prix SE she was thinking of buying. Priced right and in my wheelhouse, I gave the car a resounding two-thumbs up. First day after she bought it the damn thing broke down. No wonder we never got along.
She did, bless her heart and her health, eventually quit smoking.
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