He sauntered up to the stoplight. He looks to his left at the hot UFO (unidentified female object) in her car and winks. She responds by smoothing her hair behind her ears as she unconsciously licks her lips. Yes, the babe-magnet Ford Ranger was in full effect...
Ummm yeah.
People put a lot of time and effort and money into their vehicles. Some people spend as much almost for their car payment as for a house or apartment. I think some peoples' actual self-esteem is tied into their vehicle. Well color me unimpressed.
If a person's personality is reflected in their vehicle choice, let's look inward first I guess. I drive a Ranger truck so I can throw bales of mulch and trees and such in the back to take care of my house(s). My main passenger is my dog who loves riding shotgun in it. I do have the extended cab to throw my golf clubs or what have you in. I am a windows down person. Even in the mornings when I've just showered and my hair is wet and the result is that the wind whips it into a frenzy and suddenly I'm Robert Smith of the Cure circa 1984 (minus the mascarra, well...okay maybe mascarra on "special" days). A look that I am certain is coming back.
I almost never run the air unless the Sig Ot has graced my truck with her presence. Then the windows must be nailed shut so that no errant outside air is allowed to touch her. Ahem.
But she is the norm. Most people cacoon themselves in as if trying to hide.
Like the "dark tinting window" people. It's like staring into Darth Vader's mask to look into their windows. The really odd ones go all out to trick their car out (pimp my ride baby) and THEN throw on the dark tinting. As if to say "Hello world check me out...no! no! but don't look at me!!!" Contradiction city.
A trend I thought had passed was the boom-boom-y bass thing. Man, early 90's it was thundering everywhere. They would spend a thousand bucks to throw speakers in the trunk that only boomed bass. As if treble didn't exist! Poor, poor treble. If this was a means of communicating something to the world, what the hell was it? These people had said forget the evolution of speech, let's do it like the whales, boom-boom. I want the world to hear my visceral thudding, that is my message. And now that I think about it, I think it did actually say it all.
Now back in the day, vehicles were also helpful in sizing up fetching young females. I was of screamingly middle class origin, yet my taste ran for the sportiest of femmes often from the upper rungs of society. Yet, my limited resources culled from an after school Dunkin Donuts job, made it difficult to have enough capital to properly lay seige on these girls long enough to achieve my red-blooded male goal of reaching the Promised Land. Even despite my self-supposed bevy of charm and wit! So if the young lady sped away from school in a Benz convertible, it might be a waste of those precious resoures.
Thereby I discovered what was for me the very Holy Grail of females. The hot-hot hottie driving the beat up car. Here's a girl who wouldn't snub you over a value meal somewhere for dinner. Hot girls riding the bus might be a good target, but these seemed even rarer by junior and senior years than hot chick in a beater.
I suppose I'll have to admit that I guess vehicles can tell us a lot about people.
So me and my babe-magnet Ranger? I would appear to be a bit boring and practical and as if I could care less about what the world passing by me thinks.
Hmmm. If the pickup fits, I suppose drive it...