I Don't Understand Large Vehicles
So, I ducked out of work this morning and drove to a local car wash, where I spent $30 to get my vehicle all nice and spiffy clean, because, you see, for the past three weeks I've been driving a bonafide dirtmobile. I just haven't had the time to devote my cleansing abilities to my Cadillac, so dirt in large quantities built up both within and without. Rather than allow even more filth to accumulate, I went the expensive route and had someone else give my car a thorough wash down.
As I was standing there, watching the sloppy, rotating and swishing motions of the soapy cloth strips splash across automobiles as they traversed the cleansing tunnel, I saw the biggest personal vehicle I had every laid eyes on. It was a Cadillac Escalade, an SUV for people who bathe in $100 bills and rinse off in gold confetti. This thing was HUGE. What sick automotive designer could have possibly conjured such a garish road hog? Whoever he was, chances are he has a small penis and is compensating through his automotive design ideas. I sometimes think my Cadillac Eldorado (which I bought only after the grandfather of a good friend of mine passed away and I got a good deal on) is large, but this monstrosity looked like something Gulliver would use to level Lilliputian villages.
So I'm still standing there, mouth agape as the behemoth machine lumbers to a stop and loud fans labor to dry every last inch of the chunk of metal freakishness, when I start to ponder who could possibly own such a vehicle. I was envisioning a pituitary giant, perhaps 8'9" tall, striding forth to claim his vehicle, or perhaps some visiting king from the country of Oilandia. Surely someone of immense stature must own a beastly machine such as this.
I heard a faint voice from behind me, and I turned to see an older gentleman, perhaps 73 years of age, shuffle over to claim his Escalade. What the hell? This frail septuagenarian owns a vehicle 3,000 times his own body mass? I swear, the older people get, the bigger their vehicles get. I'm convinced that most people who reach their 100s simply start driving trains.
After considerable effort, the old man hoisted himself into the driver's seat, strapped himself in, and promptly put the vehicle in reverse, smacking an unsuspecting car wash worker and knocking him to the ground. Without acknowledging his error, grandpa shifted back into drive and steered his way back onto the road, no doubt bound for a grand American adventure.
Or, more than likely, a nap.
Posted by Ryan at October 9, 2002 02:00 PM
Stumble It!
