A few weeks ago, I had to make a trip to Los Angeles for a charity event one of my dearest, dearests was chairing. It was a kinda swanky event—an afternoon garden party at one of those big old movie star casas. Being the gigantic queen that I am, I decided that I couldn’t just drive up to the valet parker in ANY OLD CAR. No, no. Miss thing needed a luxury rental.
Upon arriving at the airport, I saw my “luxury” ride awaiting. A champagne colored Lincoln MKZ. Mary Sweet Mother of Jesus. What an ugly piece of grandmother shit. I thought for a moment about asking to swap, but then just went with it.
The interior was all burled, blonde wood and soft, buttercream leather. The car was essentially a Taurus playing dress up. And it was obviously designed for the blue-haired female population. I thought, “okay, I’m not THAT big a queen,” but accepted my fate and figured that I would probably still get some valet attitude.
The car was pretty tricked out, with gadgets and screens that no senior citizen would ever be able to navigate (yeah, I’m a hater. So what? I’ll be an AARP card-carrying senior before you know it. So I’m getting my licks in while I can.)
One feature I found particularly odd was an audible beep beep beep whenever the MKZ got too close to another car. This was usually in effect during parking maneuvers, but did sound off on other occasions.
For instance, when the homeless woman who was panhandling on the street got too close to my car. I almost laughed my ass off. The fucking alert went off. Cuz honey, nothing says luxury like protecting the occupants from the “undesirables.” The HORROR! Shudder to think.
Oh, and by the way… I almost forgot to mention—there was no valet parking at the event.
Serves me right.