In 1965, I was working for a tv station in San Francisco, doing the morning news. We had a Rambler station wagon (great for hauling kids and cases of wine from Sonoma, $1.25 a gallon) and I needed a car to go to work. It being California, I wanted a sports car.
I looked at a Mercedes 300SL (for $3000!) but took it to a mechanic who discovered that the wheel base on one side was shorter than the other side — in other words, the space frame had been deformed by a collision, equalling $$$$.
So I went to a used car dealer in San Rafael where we lived and there was a green Sunbeam for sale. I drove it for a couple of miles and I was enthralled. I came back from the test drive and the salesman (???) was telling my wife: “He can get into a lot of trouble with that car.” I talked the price down from $3600 to $3000 and bought it.
Never regretted it. The Rambler failed soon after and we only had the Tiger when we moved to Washington, looking for a place to rent. We would spill out of the car, two little kids on the back shelf, my wife holding our infant on her lap, and me driving. We looked like one of those circus acts. But it took me to work for 25 years and it is now in Denver taking my son, occasionally, to work.