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Get Anything You Want At Porsche's Restaurant

Illustration for article titled Get Anything You Want At Porsches Restaurant

Allan McNish's Porsche 911 GT1 race car sits next to a 7-series in the parking lot of the restaurant at the Porsche Museum in Stuttgart. In the parking lot! (More photos at Speed:Sport:Life)


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It was 2 years ago, Thanksgiving; That is, Thanksgiving day, two years ago, when we thought it would be a mighty fine idea to head over to the Porsche museum to see some Porsches, but the Porsches weren’t in the museum; They were in the parking lot outside the restaurant, adjoining the museum.

Sitting next to a Porsche was a BMW, so we thought it would be a nice gesture to get rid of that pesky Bimmer, so we loaded it onto our flatbed, and headed on down to the wrecking yard, but when we got to the wrecking yard, there was a chain across the gate, and a sign that said "Closed on Thanksgiving."

Now, we had never heard of a junkyard being closed on Thanksgiving, but rather than bring the BMW back, we headed on, looking for another place to drop the 7er. Then we came to an Audi dealership, where out back they had 3 other BMWs sitting on the back lot. Now, they weren’t open, but there was no chain, so we decided to leave the BMW there, and headed on back to the Porsche museum.

Now the restaurant inside the Porsche museum had a great menu, and that’s where we had our Thanksgiving dinner, which couldn’t be beat, and then we headed home.

We were awaked by a phone call, and it was Officer Obie. He said "Kid, the Audi dealer found a BMW in his trade-in lot, next to which was a license plate for a trailer, which we traced back to you. Do you know anything about it?"

I said, "Obie, I cannot lie to you. I left that license plate in that parking lot."

He said, "I’m going to need you to come down to the station."

Now one of two things was going to happen when I got to the station: He was either going to give me a commendation for being so open and honest about leaving my license plate in that parking lot (which I didn’t think was very likely), or he was going to make me tow away that BMW that I left in the lot.

But when I got to the police station, there was a third, and more sinister, possibility that I had not counted upon. When I got to the station, I was arrested.

Now, I could go on about the hearing, with the 27 8"X10" color glossy photos with the circles and the arrows, and the paragraph on the back of each one telling what each one was, but I didn’t come here to talk about the court date. I came here to talk about Rally racing.

Group B. That’s where all the craziest of the crazy are. Just watch out for the father rapers.