Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Sunday Morning, 8am, Montreal - Famous Rental Car Firm*
-Good morning, I've come to pick up my Hyundai Average 1.1 which I have booked for two days at quite a reasonable rate I believe
"Certainly Sir. Let me see now, one Economy Car at two days quite reasonable rate, plus unreasonable federal tax and inexplicable, additional Quebec tax, equals not so reasonable after all please - do you want car insurance with that?"
-Oh I suppose I do actually
"Great. That'll be exorbitant at two days, but it is necessary. Would you like to pay for the excess waiver should you need to use your insurance? It's quite ridiculous, especially at two days"
-Hmm, I think I'll take my chances thanks. I'm not planning on crashing or anything. This does cover medical bills and the like, right?
"I'm afraid not sir. It's just for the car. You'll be wanting our slap-in-face pricey medical insurance, which, let's see, at two days per person works out to be... a little over a sickening shock"
-Ok, wow, so... how much is that overall, then?
(She tots up the figures on a calculator)
"In total, that comes to a-helluva-lot-more-than-you-budgeted-for and then-some. Will you be paying by Credit Card sir?"
-There'd better not be a fucking charge for that, bitch
"No indeed sir. And it's a very good job this conversation is largely reconstructed from memory, or i'd have slapped you if you'd actually called me that, you honky kike"
And she'd be right, too. But here's the point of this all...
"Anyway, Sir, I can see that we're all out of our basic Economy model Hyundai, so if it's ok with you we'll have to give you something a little better, at no extra charge of course"
-Oh, sure. At no extra charge? Ok, I'm very interested in whatever you can give me
"How about a Ford Mustang GT? Does that sound good?"
At which point a little slither of pure boyhood fantasy joyrides up my spine, does a couple of doughnut turns around my head and then settles down for a purr in my chest where it gently cups my beating heart and begins to whisper soft but outrageous promises to drive to San Francisco immediately and chase down some bad guys
I'm no car man, to be honest, though as a child I was for a time obsessed with sports cars and speed in general. I am still able to summon up plenty of irrelevant statistics about fast cars from the 1970's and if anyone wants to let me ride their Panther Kallista or De Tomaso Pantera, get in touch and i'll blow you. Of course, these were all European and very sophisticated looking ladies indeed. The only American speed machines I considered worth knowing were the rocket-powered, land-speed-record-breaking bastard machines that ex-Air Force people and backroom-based hicks would build and race across salt flats. But in the last few weeks i've been noticing this big, brassy car with the wild horse on the front grill and thinking how god damned attractive it looks (although initially it's always 'ooh, an Aston Martin...oh..')
And then I see the car and by the time I've walked up close to it, I've damn near put a dent in the driver's door from my erection. Somehow, some way, with no sage advice to the contrary, this nice young lady had lent me, a state-certified ADHD suffering nervous, suicidal lunatic a fucking wild beast that does 0-60 in under 5 seconds (on an automatic gearbox, dont forget) and demands to be ridden at its top speed of 147 miles an hour.
So I yielded; frequently, gleefully, illegally.
It's difficult to liken the power you feel behind the wheel, or more accurately on top of the accelerator, to anything else (except maybe for when lifting one's magic sword aloft and invoking the Power of Grayskull). But it's easy to understand why a certain country of doodledandys find themselves going out with regularity to perform the occasional aggressive takeover of an asset-rich but poorly-managed foreign corporation, or "country" if you're gonna be picky. Most Europeans pay between 1 1/2 and 2 1/2 times what Americans do and most of our cars dont do a pathetic 17mpg or 25 on the highway (I filled up both days I had it and it was, embarrassingly, dirt cheap). I think successive governments have had to keep the price of gas ridiculously low to avoid serious social unrest. That and making sure they are easily distracted by everything their culture has got to offer.
*I haven't, obviously, been employed by Ford or Famous Rental Car Firm (aka Fuck Me 'Til It Hertz) to promote their products but if anyone reading this from either of these firms wants to give me some money that would be ok. I will happily promote your stuff in the guise of blogposts to all 27 or so readers I get everyday. And if you pay me double, I will stop promoting your stuff.
Q. Lalo or Serge? Lalo or Serge?
A. Lalo and Serge
|
-Good morning, I've come to pick up my Hyundai Average 1.1 which I have booked for two days at quite a reasonable rate I believe
"Certainly Sir. Let me see now, one Economy Car at two days quite reasonable rate, plus unreasonable federal tax and inexplicable, additional Quebec tax, equals not so reasonable after all please - do you want car insurance with that?"
-Oh I suppose I do actually
"Great. That'll be exorbitant at two days, but it is necessary. Would you like to pay for the excess waiver should you need to use your insurance? It's quite ridiculous, especially at two days"
-Hmm, I think I'll take my chances thanks. I'm not planning on crashing or anything. This does cover medical bills and the like, right?
"I'm afraid not sir. It's just for the car. You'll be wanting our slap-in-face pricey medical insurance, which, let's see, at two days per person works out to be... a little over a sickening shock"
-Ok, wow, so... how much is that overall, then?
(She tots up the figures on a calculator)
"In total, that comes to a-helluva-lot-more-than-you-budgeted-for and then-some. Will you be paying by Credit Card sir?"
-There'd better not be a fucking charge for that, bitch
"No indeed sir. And it's a very good job this conversation is largely reconstructed from memory, or i'd have slapped you if you'd actually called me that, you honky kike"
And she'd be right, too. But here's the point of this all...
"Anyway, Sir, I can see that we're all out of our basic Economy model Hyundai, so if it's ok with you we'll have to give you something a little better, at no extra charge of course"
-Oh, sure. At no extra charge? Ok, I'm very interested in whatever you can give me
"How about a Ford Mustang GT? Does that sound good?"
At which point a little slither of pure boyhood fantasy joyrides up my spine, does a couple of doughnut turns around my head and then settles down for a purr in my chest where it gently cups my beating heart and begins to whisper soft but outrageous promises to drive to San Francisco immediately and chase down some bad guys
I'm no car man, to be honest, though as a child I was for a time obsessed with sports cars and speed in general. I am still able to summon up plenty of irrelevant statistics about fast cars from the 1970's and if anyone wants to let me ride their Panther Kallista or De Tomaso Pantera, get in touch and i'll blow you. Of course, these were all European and very sophisticated looking ladies indeed. The only American speed machines I considered worth knowing were the rocket-powered, land-speed-record-breaking bastard machines that ex-Air Force people and backroom-based hicks would build and race across salt flats. But in the last few weeks i've been noticing this big, brassy car with the wild horse on the front grill and thinking how god damned attractive it looks (although initially it's always 'ooh, an Aston Martin...oh..')
And then I see the car and by the time I've walked up close to it, I've damn near put a dent in the driver's door from my erection. Somehow, some way, with no sage advice to the contrary, this nice young lady had lent me, a state-certified ADHD suffering nervous, suicidal lunatic a fucking wild beast that does 0-60 in under 5 seconds (on an automatic gearbox, dont forget) and demands to be ridden at its top speed of 147 miles an hour.
So I yielded; frequently, gleefully, illegally.
It's difficult to liken the power you feel behind the wheel, or more accurately on top of the accelerator, to anything else (except maybe for when lifting one's magic sword aloft and invoking the Power of Grayskull). But it's easy to understand why a certain country of doodledandys find themselves going out with regularity to perform the occasional aggressive takeover of an asset-rich but poorly-managed foreign corporation, or "country" if you're gonna be picky. Most Europeans pay between 1 1/2 and 2 1/2 times what Americans do and most of our cars dont do a pathetic 17mpg or 25 on the highway (I filled up both days I had it and it was, embarrassingly, dirt cheap). I think successive governments have had to keep the price of gas ridiculously low to avoid serious social unrest. That and making sure they are easily distracted by everything their culture has got to offer.
*I haven't, obviously, been employed by Ford or Famous Rental Car Firm (aka Fuck Me 'Til It Hertz) to promote their products but if anyone reading this from either of these firms wants to give me some money that would be ok. I will happily promote your stuff in the guise of blogposts to all 27 or so readers I get everyday. And if you pay me double, I will stop promoting your stuff.
Q. Lalo or Serge? Lalo or Serge?
A. Lalo and Serge
|
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