By Francisco Alvarado
By Trevor Bach
By Chris Joseph
By Michael E. Miller
By Allie Conti
By Keegan Hamilton and Francisco Alvarado
By Jake Rossen
By Allie Conti
Though it may seem too good to be true, Bobbie Bauman's fly ride is street legal.
Instead of car seats, the 1949 Ford has lawn chairs latched inside its frame. Rather than a coolant container, it's got a Jack Daniel's bottle. Instead of steering-wheel pleather, there's motorcycle chain. The car's rust-lacquered body hangs so low that it enshrouds the wheels, and, like some primordial creature, it belches pungent black smoke.
Then there's the name: "Suicidal Tendencies."
Inside Suicidal Tendencies sits a blond bombshell aside a dude with a black Mohawk: Bauman. One day, Bauman puttered Suicidal Tendencies through Fort Lauderdale, pulling up to Original Fat Cat's. Sparks flew, and patrons gawked.
What's up with all the rust? Who's that guy? Is he single?
Yes, Bauman reports, the babes flock to his ride. "Girls love this freaking thing," Bauman says. "Sometimes, when I come out of a restaurant, there are girls just sitting on it."
Bauman, who's in a serious relationship, contemplates the possibilities for a moment. "I could pick up a lot of babes," he says.
Bauman owns a custom auto body shop called Mad Mods in Pompano Beach and has always been into twisted cars. And everyone knows it, he said. So one day, years ago, he got a call from a buddy in Orlando.
"I think I've found the car for you," he told Bauman.
"When I saw it," Bauman says, "I thought, 'I gotta have it.' "
He painted the car's sides, refurbished it, and constructed quite possibly the illest vehicle in South Florida.