I didn’t expect to find myself grinning like a fool behind the wheel of a car that looked like it belonged to my grandfather’s golf buddy. It was a drizzly Tuesday morning in 2026, and there it sat in a gravel lot just outside Birmingham – a 2005 MG ZT 260, cloaked in a muted shade of green and wearing the kind of chrome grille that screams “retirement check.” But...
Jawa
English