I used to be a childminder/babysitter for a young girl with autism. Her parents had a DeLorean, and would give me a ride home in the thing. It wasn't really that impressive. Nice looking car, but it seems to me that it was like riding in my ex-boyfriend's 1956 Thunderbird--cold, drafty, noisy, and not comfortable. And a gas hog to boot. I think the DeLorean handled better than the T-Bird though.

East Hill