HowTo:Catch the chick with old Skoda Rapid

Škoda Rapid. The Dream of Our Grandfathers, the Car of Elitists. With its sleek fastback design, it was the ultimate chick magnet in the Eastern Bloc of the 1980s. Even today, it’s still decently expensive, but undeniably beautiful. And let’s be honest—it’s far from fast. With a modest 64 horsepower (the 136 version, if you either had enough money or were an elitist with access to hard currency), it’s still slow. Self-proclaimed morons, who don’t even know the car, have gone as far as to call it the worst sports car ever.

But here’s the thing—the Rapid was never meant to be a sports car. It was a design piece, a stylish ride. The British, who actually know a thing or two about cars, even called it a “Porsche 911 for a fraction of the price,” which says a lot.

So, if you’re a fan of weird, unconventional cars, and you’re willing to pay a hefty price (you could easily spend up to 45,000 USD), there’s a good chance you’ll want to use it to charm a lady. But how exactly do you go about it?

What is Škoda Rapid

The Škoda Rapid is the uncompromising embodiment of Eastern Bloc engineering, a machine crafted by our predecessors with the kind of ingenuity that comes from necessity. It was a symbol of ambition in a world where choices were limited, proving that style and function could coexist without the frivolous bloat of Western decadence.

While Americans were busy bloating their cars with unnecessary “features” like power steering, automatic transmissions, and climate control systems that could freeze a steak, the Škoda Rapid relied on something far more reliable: your arms, your feet, and your common sense.

• Power Steering? You have two hands, don’t you? Škoda’s engineers knew that steering shouldn’t feel like playing a video game. Want to build muscle? Drive a Rapid.
• Air Conditioning? Who needs compressors when you can just roll down the windows? Sure, it’s manual, but it’s also infinitely adjustable and doesn’t drain horsepower. That’s Communist luxury—air you control.
• Automatic Transmission? Shift it yourself, comrade. The Rapid’s manual gearbox ensures that you and the car are in harmony, a relationship built on trust and understanding—not laziness.
• Safety Features? The Rapid offered seatbelts, which were more than enough if you had the skill to keep it on the road. Anything more was considered “Western nonsense.”

Škoda Rapid line-up

Model	Powerplant	Engine displacement (CUI)	Power	Torque	Top Speed	0 - 60 MPH (App.)	Economy	Price (in the 80's - App.)	Features	Description
Rapid 120	1.2L (1,174cc) inline-four, 4-speed manual gearbox	71,6	52 hp @ 5,200 RPM	60 lb-ft @ 3,000 RPM	80 MPH	17 seconds	32 MPG	~$4,000 (originally 60,000 Kčs)	Bare-bones interior, manual windows, steel wheels, no radio included	The “people’s car” of its time. Built for those who worked hard, valued simplicity, and didn’t need useless luxuries. Unlike bloated American cars, this one focuses on getting you there, not inflating your ego.
Rapid 130	1.3L (1,289cc) inline-four, 4/5-speed manual gearbox	78,6	58 hp @ 5,200 RPM	66 lb-ft @ 3,000 RPM	87 MPH	15 seconds	30 MPG	~$4,800 (originally 72,000 Kčs)	Slightly improved upholstery, optional AM radio, improved braking system	For those who demanded a touch more refinement, without losing the essence of Communist practicality. A car that says, “I’ve made it, but I’m still not a spoiled capitalist.”
Rapid 135	1.3L (1,289cc) with improved carburetor/fuel-injection (Canada/UK), 5-speed manual gearbox	78,6	58 hp @ 5,200 RPM/ 55 hp @ 5,200 RPM (Fuel injected variant)	71 lb-ft @ 3,000 RPM	90 MPH	14 seconds	30 MPG	~$5,200 (originally 78,000 Kčs)	Upholstered seats, standard AM radio, slightly larger tires, optional heated rear window, Fuel Injection and catalytic converter for export.	A refined choice for the socialist manager or foreman. It proved that you could enjoy life without succumbing to the opulence of the West. Surprisingly sucessful in Canada btw.
Rapid 136	1.3L (1,289cc) dual-carbureted, 5-speed manual gearbox	78,6	64 hp @ 5,300 RPM	74 lb-ft @ 3,000 RPM	92 MPH	13,5 seconds	29 MPG	~$5,800 (originally 85,000 Kčs)	Upgraded upholstery, standard radio, improved ventilation, sportier aesthetics with alloy-look hubcaps	The pinnacle of socialist engineering. Called “the Porsche 911 for pocket change” by the British, it’s the car for those who worked within the system but still wanted a glimpse of individuality.

Plan

You'll buy similar one

You’re Garry. A college nerd from California, permanently stuck in NPC mode. Your glasses? Thicker than Peter Griffin’s ass. Your brain? Jammed full of Cold War facts that nobody asked for and even fewer people care about. Your classmates—those TikTok-addicted, vape-huffing wastes of space—think you’re a glitch in the system. A human Blue Screen of Death. They laugh at you, mock you, and treat you like you don’t exist.

But you’re not some background loser in their capitalist playground. Oh no. You’re about to flip the script. Main character energy is loading, and your weapon of choice?

A Škoda Rapid 135 RiC.

Not some cringe-ass Supra or douchey Skyline for overcompensating trust fund bros. Not some lifted F-150 for frat boys with micropenises. No, this is a rare communist relic with more soul than their entire TikTok clout combined. A car so obscure, only 1,000 were made. While they flex their basic-ass Teslas, you pull up in a burgundy Czech rally beast that screams: “I’m different, and I don’t care if you like it.”

Target is very similiar

Step 1

You roll onto the parking lot like a goddamn legend. Rally lights blazing. Your single-point Bendix fuel injection 1,3 liter engine just quielty runs. The gym bro Brett—roided up and dumb as a sack of hammers—points and laughs. "What the fuck is that? A clown car from Russia?" TikTok queen Connie—your not-so-secret crush—hops into Brett’s oversized truck without even looking your way. She gives you a glance so pitying it could come with a coupon for therapy.

As they drive off to do whatever boring shit basic people do, you grip your Škoda’s steering wheel and imagine Brett’s dumbass face plastered on a milk carton: MISSING – LAST SEEN BEING A PRICK.

Step 2

Back home in your parents’ garage—aka your HQ—you polish your Škoda like it’s a priceless artifact. The smell of old upholstery and questionable engineering fills the air. Connie walks by, FaceTiming some other NPC. She glances at your car, smirks, and says, "Nice car," with so much sarcasm it could kill a lesser man. You mumble, "Thanks," and watch her saunter off, leaving your ego in pieces.

You consider the arsenal in your trunk: an AR-15, an M1 Garand, and, for style, an East German MPi KM-72. For a moment, you think about going full school shooter, but nah—that’s some beta loser energy. You’re not here to be the villain. You’re the sigma protagonist of this shitshow.

Connie will be happy. Believe me.

Step 3

The next morning, you drive past Connie on her way to class. She spots you and jokes, "What, are you stalking me now?" You take a shot in the dark and offer her a ride. Shockingly, she shrugs and climbs in. Now she’s experiencing real Czech engineering: stiff seats, manual windows, no AC, and the sweet, raw hum of a rear-mounted engine.

"This is so… retro," she says, trying not to laugh. You smirk. "It’s called authenticity."

Your hands after driving a Rapid (or any other rear-engined Škoda) for few days

You pull into the lot, and here comes Brett, stomping over like a steroid-fueled toddler. "Yo, fuck you and your communist shitbox!" he yells, flexing his tiny brain as hard as his biceps. You step out of the car, your grip firm on the wheel you’ve been wrestling without power steering for years. "Come on, you pice of shit, let's have a fight like a men."

One punch. That’s all it takes. Brett goes down like a sack of protein powder. The crowd gasps. Connie stares at you, wide-eyed, like you just solved the energy crisis.

"Holy shit," she whispers.

Congratulations. You’re no longer a walking L.

Step 4

Connie dumps Brett faster than his testosterone fades post-cycle. She starts riding shotgun in your Škoda, learning to appreciate its quirks—like the lack of modern safety features and the constant fear it might explode. You teach her how to drive stick, which involves more grinding gears than a middle school dance. She loves it. "This car has vibes," she says, filming a TikTok from the driver’s seat.

Suddenly, you’re cool. Professors make snarky comments like, "Nice Lada!" and you fire back, "Actually, it’s a Škoda. Learn some history." Even Brett mumbles something about "respecting classic cars" while nursing his black eye.

Connie’s capitalist boomer parents are less impressed. They look at your Škoda like it’s a Soviet deathtrap—which it kinda is. Her dad asks where the engine is, and you deadpan, "It doesn’t have one. Runs on pure vibes." When you pop the rear hood and let him tinker with the engine, he reluctantly admits it’s "interesting."

Step 5

You sell off some of your Cold War reenactment gear and buy rally upgrades for the Škoda. A few ironic bumper stickers, too: "Power Steering Is for Cowards" and "Real Men Drive Slow Cars Fast." You even snag another rare Škoda—a 135 GLi sedan, one of only 400 ever made.

One day, Connie asks, "Why do you even like these cars?" You stop, resting a hand on the cracked dashboard. "Because they’re not about flexing or fitting in. They’re about being yourself. Not some sheep chasing likes and horsepower." She smirks. "You’re such a nerd." You grin. "And you love it."

As you drive off—not into the sunset but back to campus—you realize something. You’re not just Garry, the NPC. You’re Garry, the King. The guy who punched Brett, bagged the girl, and made being weird cooler than conformity. And you did it all with a communist shitbox, a manual transmission, and zero fucks given.

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