“Hey ladies! Come roll with me!
Come fly down the streets in this car, so free!”
I laugh as I watch those shiny wheels spin, and I can’t help but wonder, “Why are you ‘blazing’ up and down these streets with your tricked-out racer riding on chrome? These are the suburban streets of America and the only ones you are impressing are the pre-teens. They will come running in hoardes, but that is simply because they love anything that shines or spins.”
I do, however, take pride in my vehicle of choice. I cruise the strip, pickin’ up chicks in my… well… relatively new 28-speed mountain bike. Sometimes, when my mother is busy watching a movie or gardening, I hit the road in her white minivan. I get “hoots” and “hollas” like no one’s business flying around on those wheels. All those fools wishin’ they were me.
Ah, who am I kidding. I don’t get any “hoots.” I got a “holla” once, but I think that was an old man sneezing, stopped next to me at a stoplight. If the stereotype held true is my case, what would I be like, as a person?
Me, as a Person, Based on my Ride
- I am a momma’s boy
- I am cheap and can’t afford gas, much less a car
- I am either ugly or have a strange personality (what kind of man would cruise around on a bike and ask his mother for the keys on those longer, cross-town, ventures?)
We all know that none of those are true (imagine that I am studly, very independent, rich, etc). What, then, can you really tell about a man based solely on the car he drives?
His style. How classy he is. And more importantly, how rich he is.
Haaha ha….wait just a second…hahaha…hold on……ha…ugh…ok. Sorry for that. I just can’t get enough of the fact that people actually think one can define a personal style by a mass-produced, pre-packaged vehicle. Financial status, however, has some merit, but it rests on shaky grounds. I know many a men who have comitted themselves to years of financial slavery to sit behind the wheel of a car which costs more than they have the means to pay. I also know several wealthy people who purchase modest vehicles, basing their decisions on the idea that perhaps, just maybe, there are worthier things to spend one’s money on.
But style and class? Gosh. For everyone other than a car enthusiast, cars are cars. We define them by their outward luster, inner appeal, and those expensive extras (who really needs a DVD player with Dolby surround sound in their gas-guzzling SUV?). We buy them mass-produced and pre-packaged, and as I said, I hardly call that a definition of individual class and style. But, I suppose if you are one of the many who dress in Abercrombie and Fitch and pass it off as unique, this fact could be disregarded.
His Sex Appeal
No giggles on this one. Just plain awe. Since when did driving a fast ferari make you good in bed, let alone handsome or sexy? The last time I checked most of the people driving such cars were over forty, overweight, had too much money, too much time, and too little to do. Tantalizing, eh? I like to call it “compensation.”
Ok, so I can see this one. It is only natural that people surround themselves with objects that are semi-tailored to their likes. But really, how much can you glean from someone’s ride? Imagine, if you will, a forrest green 1996 Subaru Legacy. Inside in a studly guy of about, say, twenty eight. He pulls up beside you at a long stoplight and both of you have your windows open. Pretend that you are a cute young woman, even if you are none of the three. You lean over and say, “Hello.” He looks back and smiles, and you think you have it all figured out.
You’ve seen all those rugged Suburu commercials, and low and behold, there is a ski rack atop his car. He must be an “outdoors” type. This is furthered by the color choice of his car, seeing as green has become rather synonymous with nature. The car is clean; but, not in the “I just got a car wash” sort of way. No, there are bug guts on the windshield and dirt splats about the rims of his wheels, but it is obvious the car is taken care of. He must be a mature and adult-like fellow. He takes responsibility for his posessions. There are a bunch of hippie bumber stickers pasted about the back of his car and his license plate says “FREnWLD.” He must be a free-thinker with an open mind, and he is likely an independent when it comes to politics. He license plate indicates he is spontaneous and outgoing, obviously “Free and Wild.”
Imagine, then, that you roll down your window and ask him, “So, what are you like as a person?” His glasses slide down his nose and you realize he has buck teeth. He has a slight stutter. He turns and says, “G-G-Golly, I am a computer scientist. I play a lot of videogames, too. I am on my way to pick up my kids from sk-sk-ski lessons, and my favorite color is g-g-green.” The light changes and off he goes. At least you were right about the green thing. He likes green. What more do you need to know?
What you have learned
You have a guess at his monetary value and his favorite color. You don’t, however, know a whole lot else. Sure, there are exceptions. But there are for every rule, no? Every once and a while I see a pretty blonde speed by in a red convertible. However, “cliche” is not a trait I check for on those online dating services. The fact of the matter is that the man makes the car, baby, not the other way around. You gotta get inside the car to get to know a guy, preferably not in the backseat.