Listening to: Cream, Wheels of Fire
RE: my last post; the story has somewhat of a happy ending.
After the minivan was hauled off, I contacted my younger brother, the one who’s a General Manager at one of the huge car dealerships here in town (obviously, the brother I still talk to) to see if there was any way he could help me out. Desperate for any transportation, I was willing to take whatever he sent my way.
The first offer he made was a 95’ Chevy Astro, a real POSV*, with a clunking transmission and jittery brakes. Also a gas hog, the thing was a real lemon and hideous. When it was obvious the thing would be a money pit (the service department flushed the transmission to no avail), I turned it in to see what else he could get me.
There were a couple of options, he told me, a 97’ Ford Escort. Uh uh. It was when I saw the second option that I immediately fell in love. A 1995 Audi Quattro A6, fully loaded, smoky-gray with leather interior and an accelerator that screams to be pushed to the floor.
And, oh – I notice that I get noticed. The Audi gets me 100 times more double-takes per mile than the minivan ever did. Damn, I love driving it**, it’s beautiful.
I was talking to a friend about the car I'm driving, she laughed, "boys and their cars."
Her take is that my perception is determined by what I drive, that maybe I'm a bit more confident because I'm behind the wheel of what I think is a bitchin' machine. My take is that yeah, I'm probably deep in my pimp stroll because of my ride but ya' gotta' admit, the ladies like a dude driving something other than a minivan.
My evidence in this argument has been the double take. When I was driving the minivan, I’d look over at a woman and she’d shoot back a sneer of derision like, “Go away, you old pervert.” But oh yes, the double take. There’s nothing that makes a guy’s day more than having an attractive woman briefly check him out and then follow it up immediately with a longer check – and a smile. Puts a lift in my step, a deep breath of “Oh, yeah,” to whisk me breezily through the rest of my day.
The other night I stopped at a local coffee shop to get a tall cup before my group. I parked the Audi in front a local tanning salon. Inside, two orange-skinned, blow-dried blondes were manning the front desk. The older, taller of the two took notice with the double-take I talked about. Again, the same thing when I returned to the car, with a long follow-up third take as I pulled out. Not that I have any illusions that she’d be anything close to “my type” but, hey, I’ll take an ego-boost when I can get it.
Boys and their cars, indeed.
* Piece of Shit Vehicle
** Except the damn radio is shot and a friend tells me this model is very delicate with the electronics. Any suggestions?