Mods - I'm sure you will move this, but had to post here first - my E39 buddies are family.
This is my buddies summary of driving a service loaner hybrid... he has a knack for mixing bits of humor in his witty writing style.
dropped my car off at the Toyota dealership for the day to get a new timing belt and water pump installed ($675...that blows). As a gesture of kindness, the nice people at Toyota allowed me to become the proud temporary driver of a silver Camry Hybrid (riding on 15's...that's a 3/4 DUB, I believe). Below are the details of my adventure thus far:
Mile 1:
I was amazed that my balls actually retracted up into my body mere moments after entering the car. This proved handy as I have found that it is in fact my testicles that control my feelings of humiliation and degradation...which, coincidentally, are two emotions that come as standard equipment from the factory with this particular vehicle. I adjust the radio dial from FLAG1500 AM or whatever station it is that plays all Melissa Etheridge all the time to a more masculine, but equally liberal, NPR (Rush isn't on yet).
Mile 3:
I was just out accelerated from a stop light by a lovely van **** brown 1984 Ford Tempo (86 hp) whose driver, courtesy of the cardboard sign in the rear window, informed me that his license tag had been applied for. Thank goodness for that.
Mile 4:
I wonder if more women would enjoy this car if they just had the chance to experience the seismic tremor that resonates throughout the vechile each and every time the gas engine starts and stops...which is about every 10 to 15 seconds. Perhaps with a correctly contoured seat cushion, they could enjoy the pleasures of their orgasm as they meddle through stop and go traffic.
Mile 6:
A young blonde woman in a silver 2008 BMW 335i Coupe is next to me at yet another red light (I cannot accelerate fast enought to beat the light cycles, so I am forever destined to endure this car in torturous, 2-block intervals). I try not to look at her, but when I finally chance a quick glance we make eye contact and I suddenly feel her looking the side of my car up and down with disgust. I am assuming the rediculously large silver, green and blue "HYBRID" emblem attached to the side of the driver's door didn't help my case any. The light turns green...we both floor it. I was able to read her license plate, and the license plates of 4 other vehicles behind her before my car had reached 30 mph.
Mile 8:
A guys in a Prius is driving behind me. I can't really describe the color of his car, but if ever there was a color that said "I have sex with men, and I love it", then this was it...for now, we'll just call it sparkleberry. He has a well-groomed mustache, short hair and is wearing sunglasses that are so large compared to the size of his head that they would make a classic pair of Aviators look like contact lenses. I think he sees that I'm driving a hybrid now. Why can't this car have "SERVICE LOANER" tatooed across the rear window like the ones at other dealerships. This actually looks like it is MY car. Since all the other traffic has long since passed us, he swerves left and pulls even with me at the next light. Our of the corner of my eye I can see him glancing at me. I pretend to be on the phone and floor it as the light turns green. I finally out accelerate another car. I am tempted to breifly turn on my hazard lights to further inform him of my victory (as is standard fare is the rice-rocket racing world). I yield to temptation and feel like a bigger *** having done it. Thankfully, Sparkleberry turned into a Salon before I got stopped at the next light.
Mile 9:
Finally at the parking deck at my office building and the slow crawl to find an open space has allowed the car to run solely on its battery power. The silence is deafening. More gangs should get hybrids...no one could ever hear you creaping up for a drive-by.
So now I sit at work; dreading the 30 minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic that I must face on my drive back to the dealership to return this piece of $#!t. Jesus I f@#$ng hate hybrids...at least until Porsche builds one. Then I might warm to the idea.
This is my buddies summary of driving a service loaner hybrid... he has a knack for mixing bits of humor in his witty writing style.
dropped my car off at the Toyota dealership for the day to get a new timing belt and water pump installed ($675...that blows). As a gesture of kindness, the nice people at Toyota allowed me to become the proud temporary driver of a silver Camry Hybrid (riding on 15's...that's a 3/4 DUB, I believe). Below are the details of my adventure thus far:
Mile 1:
I was amazed that my balls actually retracted up into my body mere moments after entering the car. This proved handy as I have found that it is in fact my testicles that control my feelings of humiliation and degradation...which, coincidentally, are two emotions that come as standard equipment from the factory with this particular vehicle. I adjust the radio dial from FLAG1500 AM or whatever station it is that plays all Melissa Etheridge all the time to a more masculine, but equally liberal, NPR (Rush isn't on yet).
Mile 3:
I was just out accelerated from a stop light by a lovely van **** brown 1984 Ford Tempo (86 hp) whose driver, courtesy of the cardboard sign in the rear window, informed me that his license tag had been applied for. Thank goodness for that.
Mile 4:
I wonder if more women would enjoy this car if they just had the chance to experience the seismic tremor that resonates throughout the vechile each and every time the gas engine starts and stops...which is about every 10 to 15 seconds. Perhaps with a correctly contoured seat cushion, they could enjoy the pleasures of their orgasm as they meddle through stop and go traffic.
Mile 6:
A young blonde woman in a silver 2008 BMW 335i Coupe is next to me at yet another red light (I cannot accelerate fast enought to beat the light cycles, so I am forever destined to endure this car in torturous, 2-block intervals). I try not to look at her, but when I finally chance a quick glance we make eye contact and I suddenly feel her looking the side of my car up and down with disgust. I am assuming the rediculously large silver, green and blue "HYBRID" emblem attached to the side of the driver's door didn't help my case any. The light turns green...we both floor it. I was able to read her license plate, and the license plates of 4 other vehicles behind her before my car had reached 30 mph.
Mile 8:
A guys in a Prius is driving behind me. I can't really describe the color of his car, but if ever there was a color that said "I have sex with men, and I love it", then this was it...for now, we'll just call it sparkleberry. He has a well-groomed mustache, short hair and is wearing sunglasses that are so large compared to the size of his head that they would make a classic pair of Aviators look like contact lenses. I think he sees that I'm driving a hybrid now. Why can't this car have "SERVICE LOANER" tatooed across the rear window like the ones at other dealerships. This actually looks like it is MY car. Since all the other traffic has long since passed us, he swerves left and pulls even with me at the next light. Our of the corner of my eye I can see him glancing at me. I pretend to be on the phone and floor it as the light turns green. I finally out accelerate another car. I am tempted to breifly turn on my hazard lights to further inform him of my victory (as is standard fare is the rice-rocket racing world). I yield to temptation and feel like a bigger *** having done it. Thankfully, Sparkleberry turned into a Salon before I got stopped at the next light.
Mile 9:
Finally at the parking deck at my office building and the slow crawl to find an open space has allowed the car to run solely on its battery power. The silence is deafening. More gangs should get hybrids...no one could ever hear you creaping up for a drive-by.
So now I sit at work; dreading the 30 minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic that I must face on my drive back to the dealership to return this piece of $#!t. Jesus I f@#$ng hate hybrids...at least until Porsche builds one. Then I might warm to the idea.