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Today, I had my annual car inspection required by the Commonwealth of Virginia. Also required: You must call it a “commonwealth,” not a “state.” (This pretentiousness is foreshadowing of what’s to come.) I was fourth in line. Immediately in front of me was a Lamborghini. Which model? Couldn’t tell you. Doesn’t matter. The first two cars in front of me took 25 minutes to get through their inspections, but the Lambo – is that what people call them? That’s what I’m going to call them – took 40 minutes. Why? Because anyone that drives a Lambo thinks they’re the most important person in the world. This guy was no different. He wildly revved the engine while in line, wouldn’t let the staff member drive the car into or out of the bay, and he stood by the car as they inspected it, micromanaging the entire process. Because he wouldn’t let them drive it out of the bay, he held everyone up a couple more minutes while he went inside to pay his bill. He clearly thought he was the shit.

I imagine this guy gives them his repair business, or they were trying to impress him to earn his business. Lambo repairs are expensive, so of course they gave him extra attention. I have no problem with that; businesses should take better care of their regulars, and they should attempt to pull in high-spending customers. It’s good for, well, business. But the behavior of the driver seems so silly and grounded in the same insecurity that plagues us as a society. That insecurity is far too serious a topic for this blog. I’m actually here to talk about how unfounded his snobbery is.

The entire time I’m sitting behind this car and watching this guy lecture the staff even before it was his turn, and trying to listen to watch Get Up in ESPN over his unnecessary revving of his engine, I’m thinking, “You think this Lambo is a status symbol. It earned that reputation based on the car’s performance, but do you realize that my Tesla Model 3 could easily outrace it?”

Yeah, it’s true and well-documented. My Model 3 could easily outrace this Lambo, and it cost me no more than 15% of what he paid. As far as I’m concerned, the Lambo is a stain on his reputation. Buying a Lambo just so that you know you could win a drag race you’ll never enter because you’d be afraid to damage the car is pretty dumb. Doing so when you know you couldn’t actually win that race is even dumber. Paying at least seven times more for a car built to lose that race suggests you’re not smart enough to tie your shoes.

Before anyone lays into me with “Well, actually” (it’s probably too late), I’m fully aware that the top speed of a Lambo is at least 33 mph higher than the top speed of a Tesla Model 3. Eventually, the Lambo would reach a speed of 200 or more mph, whereas I’m capped at 163 mph. So yes, the Lambo could beat me in a “mini-marathon” if I were ever dumb enough to engage in one. But while as dumb as it is to buy a passenger car to win drag races, it’s even dumber to buy a passenger car to win mini-marathons. Are you going to engage in a several-minute race with me on a highway? The chances of getting busted by the cops for a marathon go up exponentially versus a quick drag race, as do the chances of killing someone.

I admit I’ve never been into cars. I’m a “point A to point B” person when it comes to buying a car, so the status symbol is outside the scope of my way of thinking. But times have changed, so even if you’re all about cars, your loud, smelly, energy-inefficient Lambo doesn’t hold a candle to my quiet, odorless, far cheaper Tesla. It’s status is no longer deserved. If I won a billion dollars in the lottery tomorrow so that money was no object, I’d still drive a quiet Tesla that’s always charged because I can plug it in when I get home. (I don’t take many long-distance road trips.) And for all that, if I chose to pass your Lambo to pull in ahead of you, there’s nothing you could do to stop me. How’s your ego doing now, champ?

He’s probably still thinks he’s the shit.

I started an inordinate number of my sentences with “but.” I wonder what Freud would say about that.

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