AN INTERVIEW WITH A YOUNG MANHATTANITE WHO BORROWED A FRIEND'S CAR FOR THE MONTH OF AUGUST
Q: What kind of car have you borrowed?
A: It's a midnight blue turbo Saab with a sun/moon roof, six-CD changer in the trunk, power everything, and a tiger-striped baby seat that I can't figure out how to remove because they took the key to the lock with them. Clearly they did this on purpose. But they don’t know that I know a guy who has the ultimate set of tools.
Q: How has parking it been?
A: It's not unlike getting tested for herpes. You debate whether to get the test in the first place. You count the people you've been with and discuss with your inner voices the possibilities of them being carriers. You stand on the toilet to get a good look at yourself in the mirror above the sink (which you never realized was so high up) and contort yourself like a Coney Island freak trying to hold in a fart just to get a good look, which you think will provide you comfort though you have no idea what herpes looks like. Then when you do manage to work up the gumption to go to the penis doc and you tell him your history, he laughs at you and says, "Fuck those HMOs. Let's test you for everything and rack up a huge bill!" Which is to say, you feel so relieved and giddy once you find a damn spot that you look for someone to rob. It's a high, man. Try it.
Q: Is there any chance of you cruising the Upper East Side to fool rich girls into hanging out with you?
A: Yes. In fact, once Toby Young loans me his bespoke pin-stripe suit I have more exciting plans for those ladies than Martin Amis does with his dentist.
Q: Why did your friends agreed to leave their car with you?
A: NASCAR dads are the hot new demo (soccer moms turned out to be the lesbians-until-graduation of the '90s) and if I'm not on the cutting edge, getting targeted by the media the most, than I am dead to me.
Q: Will it pain you mercifully to have to go back to that sorry mode of transportation you call a bike and give up your elite status?
A: No. In fact, I just got it back from your mom. And if I can get all her leg hair out of the gears it will suit me just fine. Dick.
Q: What kind of car have you borrowed?
A: It's a midnight blue turbo Saab with a sun/moon roof, six-CD changer in the trunk, power everything, and a tiger-striped baby seat that I can't figure out how to remove because they took the key to the lock with them. Clearly they did this on purpose. But they don’t know that I know a guy who has the ultimate set of tools.
Q: How has parking it been?
A: It's not unlike getting tested for herpes. You debate whether to get the test in the first place. You count the people you've been with and discuss with your inner voices the possibilities of them being carriers. You stand on the toilet to get a good look at yourself in the mirror above the sink (which you never realized was so high up) and contort yourself like a Coney Island freak trying to hold in a fart just to get a good look, which you think will provide you comfort though you have no idea what herpes looks like. Then when you do manage to work up the gumption to go to the penis doc and you tell him your history, he laughs at you and says, "Fuck those HMOs. Let's test you for everything and rack up a huge bill!" Which is to say, you feel so relieved and giddy once you find a damn spot that you look for someone to rob. It's a high, man. Try it.
Q: Is there any chance of you cruising the Upper East Side to fool rich girls into hanging out with you?
A: Yes. In fact, once Toby Young loans me his bespoke pin-stripe suit I have more exciting plans for those ladies than Martin Amis does with his dentist.
Q: Why did your friends agreed to leave their car with you?
A: NASCAR dads are the hot new demo (soccer moms turned out to be the lesbians-until-graduation of the '90s) and if I'm not on the cutting edge, getting targeted by the media the most, than I am dead to me.
Q: Will it pain you mercifully to have to go back to that sorry mode of transportation you call a bike and give up your elite status?
A: No. In fact, I just got it back from your mom. And if I can get all her leg hair out of the gears it will suit me just fine. Dick.
posted by kiddigit at 11:00 PM
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