So, tonight I was on the phone with an old pal of mine. Let’s just call him Tim.* And he tells me that, after something like 11 years, he’s finally getting rid of his trusty Geo Metro. Because, he says, he’s recently come to realize that it’s just not a chick magnet.
“WHAT????????” I replied incredulously. “SURELY, YOU GEST? Do you honestly mean to tell me that YOUR car—perhaps the FINEST automotive machine ever to vibrate violently and make a persistent whiney noise as it approaches 30 MPH—is NOT the stuff that makes women simply place their heels on the dashboard, manually recline the passenger seat, slide a little Barry White into the cassette player, and throw their heads back in sweet, sweet surrender????”
(Well then, don’t I feel silly.)
He then proceeded to tell me, in an entirely sober tone, that, in fact, his car—which he once shamelessly drove around town for something like an ENTIRE YEAR with tiny bits of HAM on the hood (discarded by a neighbor over the balcony of his apartment building)—is just not doing it when it comes to scoring love from the ladies.
“So,” I asked, placing a cool glass of water to my temple, “What will you drive?”
“Probably a Mercedes,” he said flatly.
At which point my frontal lobe exploded.
Who goes form a 1996 Geo Metro to a MERCEDES?? I mean, what sort of evolution is that??? Isn’t that sort of like Neanderthal man rising up one day, sliding on a strappy pair of sandals, and a heading out to the spa for a Brazilian and a brow wax? If you’ve been driving a Geo Metro—no power steering, only one door works—for 11 years, will they even LET you test drive a Mercedes? Are they even allowed???
Oh, this is all very, very confusing.
*Not his real name. Well, OK, yes it is.
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