I’m not even joking.
When you’ve lived in Vegas for a while, you get numbed to all the standard luxury cars people drive. For one, cars are pretty cheap here. Mix in the “gotta-have-it” “gotta-be-it” lifestyle fueled by vice, celebrity, and all that other crap that festers here and everyone and their brother has a Beemer. So when I say there are nice cars floating around, I don’t mean someone’s got a Mercedes S550. I’m talking about the Aston Martins, the Bentleys, the real luxury cars that actually get driven around.
I work in a part of town where these luxury cars are pretty common. On my way to the gas station for a soda and a snack I used to see this black Aston Martin at least once every quarter. This guy never paid attention where he was driving, and at least 4 times a year he’d come thisclose to T-boning me in the parking lot or rear-ending me in the McDonald’s drive-thru line. I wish I were kidding.
My friends would joke that I should let him hit me and take the insurance money. I was too afraid that it would somehow be judged my fault and my insurance company would drop me! Never mind getting the cash from the driver to disappear quietly – few people in this town have cash like that, even if they do have cars.
I do not have a luxury car, not even now that I have a brand new little “race car”. (It’s a shiny 6-speed with dual exhaust and I drive it like a bat out of hell when I’m angry or in a good mood) My old cars? For the last 10 years I’ve driven older models, one of them with the bumper duct-taped on after the car wash guys cracked the rust that was holding it up.
The Aston Martin hasn’t been seen in a good 6 months or so, but this last week its menacing replacement reared its ugly head. There is a black Bentley in the same neighborhood that refuses to pay attention to stop signs and right-of-way. The Bentley is definitely more reckless than the Aston Martin and it’s only a matter of time before something bad happens.
It’s only a matter of time.