It’s not that it makes sense. It’s not that I shouldn’t, I don’t know, buy literally any readily-available BMW instead. It’s just that I deserve a four-door 1990s and it is inappropriate, in a cosmic sense, that I do not have one.

Of the R32/R33/R34 trio, it’s the middle child that gets the least adoration. The R33 is not just the least good, it is an affront to the goodness of its siblings. It is bigger and heavier than the trim R32, the lightest of the bunch. It is blobbier and weaker than the R34, the most contemporary of the bunch.

But for some reason, I look into its big dopey eyes and I see simple pleasures for my simple mind. An anonymous, undesirable car that can do burnouts and go sideways without making too much noise about it.

This all came to mind as I bumped into one such four-door R33 on the streets of Tokyo a few weeks back. I was somewhere around Kuramae, or Asakusa, or somewhere over there.

It gleamed resplendent, two-tone. It was not anywhere near the sportiest of these R33 sedans, this one not having a turbo or even a manual transmission. If it were me I would find myself a GTS25t Type M, with rear-wheel drive, a limited-slip differential, a five-speed manual, and the stout RB25DET, with about 250 horsepower for around 3,000 pounds. (Full specs on all Skylines can be found .)

I do not need heavy all-wheel-drive, I do not need more power. I mean, I don’t need any of this. It’s just that with soft aspirations and I deserve something nice.

Looking up how much one of these R33 sedans costs puts figures in around -, which is more money than I have to spend. That is, it is more money than is appropriate, because for things in life to be appropriate, I would already have a picture of me on top of the 125th Street Viaduct in Manhattan with my fog lights on and tire smoke billowing up behind me.