American car stereotypes
Like it or not, in America people look at you like your some kind of loser that is beneath them if you drive a piece of shit car, especially if youíre smoking a cigarette and driving a shitty car. They figure youíre poor and that you lack the moral fortitude to hold down a reputable good paying job. On the other hand if you drive a nice car they look at you like youíre somebody special, a scholar, captain of industry or a distinguished businessman, even though you may suck and are in debt up to your ears. There is a lot of judging others by their wealth not their character in America, because everyone wants to be rich or at least fool other people into believing they are wealthy and cars help with that. On another noteÖyour car of choice particularly the way an American customizes and sometimes uses them as a billboard about themselves on wheels, can flat-out say ďHey look Iím a jack-ass, yuppie, ghetto, Mexican, a hunter, white trash, outdoorsy, well-traveled, liberal, a douche bag, immature or have a small penis.
Vehicles in America are a big investment and you can either max out your financial situation to drive a BMW, drive a modest yet functional car within your budget, pay cash for a car that you can afford or buy a car and customize it so that everyone knows you have shit between your ears. Most Americans to save face simply lease or finance a car that they canít afford to pay cash for, which is ok because people donít get to see their bank account driving down the street. I call these people $30,000 dollar a year millionaires; although they look like theyíre rich driving down the road, they live in an apartment and have no disposable income. Cars are like cows in India the more you have the more attractive you are to women, except in America the nicer the car you have the more attracted women are to you. On a side note, we all know what women want in America that donít make their own moneyÖĒSecurityĒ that a less gold diggerish way of saying money.
On the same token Americans are shallow, anytime you present yourself to someone youíre judged by how you dress, look and in most cases the car you drive, so your kind of screwed. America is a country where in most cases you need a car to function and get to work unless you live in a large city and donít mind the smell of urine on public transportation.
I met this one asshole through mutual friends who wouldnít even ride in my car because it was beneath him and potentially to humiliating to be seen it my car. It brought me pleasure to know how much of an materialistic jerk off he really was, because I let him know later that night that his girlfriend was a whore in college and that I jizzed all over her face on several occasions. It bothered him, but being that he had money and she was a high priced hooker, slash gold digger and a piece of arm candy their shallow mutual interest suited him to the point that he was willing to pass off my claims, he later married her and I wasnít invited to the wedding.
Thatís why school uniforms are a good idea; it excludes a lot of judging and ways to divide people economically and socially. But thatís what Americans like to do, separate themselves in a materialistic and interest based fashion from other Americans, it gives us a sense of being better than other Americans. Further, I wouldnít like it if everyone drove the same car, I would lose the entertainment value of seeing morons driving their stupid customized cars while I sit in rush hour traffic.
What I have observed in America is that different races and socio-economic groups customize their cars in different ways or like to drive a certain make of car stereotypically compared to other races in America. To put things in perspective from my point of view while Iím sitting in rush hour traffic; I enjoy observing the surrounding cars within my keen observational sight and noticing some stereotypical things about cars and their drivers.
For example, my buddy whoís white and works in downtown Seattle at a bank drives a BMW and loves to listen to the Dave Mathews Band, golf and drink wine arrogantly. On the other hand an old friend of mine I called ďGhetto MikeĒ; who lived near M.L.K. Boulevard in Seattle (Ghetto Part of Town) drove a Cadillac all tricked out, sitting on dubs (twenty inch rims) with a booming sound system blaring his favorite rapperís music. Why Ghetto Mike drove a car so stereotypical of a drug dealer (which he was) in America makes me wonder why anyone would criticize profiling certain people in America from a copís point of view. The culture of drug dealing is very stereotypical on the street level; drug dealers all listen to rap, drive the same cars, customize their cars in the same way and all wear shirts with ďScarface,Ē on them. On a side note, I would have preferred to get my coke from a Mexican, because in America everybody knows that Mexicanís have the best coke.
But I will say this about Mexicans and the cars they drive; that it is an atrocity what they do to cars when it comes to customizing them in a stereotypical Mexican fashion. I can take one look at a car with a horrible custom paint job, Virgin Mary sticker on the back windshield, fifteen day laborers in it and tacky chrome accents all over the car and know that it belongs to a Mexican. Seriously, Mexicans love chrome on their cars like black ghetto people like gold on their teeth. If Mexicans could have a chrome paint job on their car they would.
To my right I see a white construction worker in a big truck, his tan tattooed arms extend from his cut off dirty shirt hanging out the window with a cigarette in his fingers. His truck is full of accessories stereotypical to the working man; a gun rack, ladders, power cords, power tools, empty beer cans and cigarette butts in the bed of his truck. Of course I hear him listening to Michael Savage on the radio. Although he looks like Napoleon and his penis is the size of my pinky you wouldnít assume that because his truck is all jacked up with a custom lift kit and big tires similar to a monster truck.
To my left there is a young Asian kid driving a tricked out Nissan Z with his hat to the side revving his motor so that he can annoy everyone with his obnoxiously loud custom exhaust. ďChen,Ē wants everyone to know his car is fast as if they care, heís an idiot; he does this by putting a big fin on the back of his car, lowering the suspension and putting stickers all over his car that distinguish the variety of custom parts he has put on his car.
Behind him is a old rich white lady in a Mercedes 500 wearing way too much make up to cover up her old catcherís mitt of a face, because she thinks being tan in the winter makes her better then the next person because she travels. She is surely on her way home to her gated community on a golf course, oh wait look there is her expensive status symbol of a toy dog Iím sure she just picked up from the groomers.
In front of me is a liberal that I purposely drove behind so that I could read her all too common stupid politically charged bumper stickers for entertainment on her Toyota Prius. Although she thinks she is enlightened she is also too stupid and smug to realize nobody cares what she thinks. I wonder what liberals who drive Toyota Priusís do first; buy their car or buy the bumper stickers they put on their car. I pulled up to her car later and sure enough she was wearing trendy glasses trying to look like Jeanine Garofalo and listening to a band I have never heard of. I never knew being Liberal, earth conscious and hip cost so much money.
Two lanes over I see a white trash guy smoking a cigarette and drinking a tall can of beer inconspicuously in a 1986 Camaro with a loud custom exhaust. I love seeing raging alcoholics driving home from work drinking beer in their car, it always makes me laugh. I can tell that he is a simple man by his choice of music; Lynard Synard of course I can see and hear him playing the air guitar and singing free bird in between puffs of his cigarette. I bet this guy prides himself on being able to sing, drink and smoke at the same time, all you smoker slash car singers know what Iím talking about. Iím sure he is on his way to his favorite bar to catch happy hour and drink cheap beer, before he goes home and beats up his meth head wife and teenage son before he blacks out for the night.
Later down the road over to my right I hear booming bass coming from somewhere and then I see a black guy with corn rows in his hair, wearing a jersey and big gold chain in a Cadillac all tricked out like a ghetto pimpís car and think to myself, ďI bet you the bass anything itís coming from his carĒ.
Pulling up to my left I see a beat up old truck with a big sticker of the Virgin Mary on it and about five more people in it then is legal, I immediately think to myself, I bet it is a bunch of Mexican construction workers and sure enough when they get closer it is. My notion is confirmed by hearing the god awful sound of Mexican Music blaring from their truck and the fact that there all drinking alcoholic beverages hidden in paper bags. Mexicans are hardworking people but stay the hell away from them on the road, because the last person you want to get in a wreck with is someone who has no legal license and no insurance. You know you have an immigration problem when there are radio stations that only play music in Spanish. Continuing with Mexicanís I can assure you this, if you see a car with the most retarded custom paint job, chrome accents all over their car, there will be a Mexican driving it.
Further down the road I see a grown man in a Mazda Miata convertible, upon closer inspection I see he has a pony-tail and heís wearing Oakley Razor Blade sunglasses, which confirms the stereotype that only white douche bags that have mail order brides from an Asian slum drive these cars.
Next I see a guy driving a Porsche smoking a cigar that looks like Hugh Grant, I also notice a tennis racket in his front seat. If I saw his car parked and he wasnít in it I would bet a million dollars that he is white. If your into noticing the stark racial boundaries in American hobbies that some people enjoy, I encourage you to play find the black guy at the ski resort, winner gets a free lunch.
Then I see a some dumb blonde in a Mercedes C class putting make up on, texting her dumb ass bad boy boyfriend who drives a jacked up truck, works out at Goldís Gym ,does steroids and beats her when heís gets drunk. She probably deserves it, however beating common sense into someone is difficult.
Oh wait, never mind I thought I saw a man driving a Subaru Forester, silly me it was just a lesbian with a flat top wearing a flannel shirt. Lesbians in America like driving Subaru Foresters, because they can fit all their tools and softball equipment in the back of them when they fold the seats down.
Here comes a cab driver wearing a turban who looks like he just arrived to America on the back of a camel. Oh, God I can smell the stench coming from his car as he drives by. Wait here comes another cabby. Itís a disgusting slob reading porn while stuck in rush hour traffic. Upon closer inspection he looks to be masturbating to pass the time on a long shift.
Hey wait; Itís my white Mormon neighbors in their extension van with all thirteen of their kids on their way to visit the Mormon temple, Iím sure of it.
Then I see a wreck on the side of the road and an old white guy getting out of a Lincoln Town Car. Old people are the reason you have to take a vision test to get a driverís license when you go to the DMV.
I donít feel Iím any different than anyone else in America when I say that I judge people to some extent when Iím stopped at a stop light or when Iím in rush hour traffic, itís just what we do to pass the time. Americans are all guilty of giving the quick look to our right or left and then pretending like we werenít checking out the person next to us.
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