I was beaten by a cross-eyed man in a Toyota Prius in a bout of traffic-light drag racing last week. A Prius. A car that produces less power than my food blender.
It was utterly depressing. I have since booked myself a counselling session.
A Prius?! What car do you drive?
A Kia Picanto.
Pah! I said ‘car’.
Funny…
It’s a cracking little thing. Up until ‘the incident’ I often proclaimed that it was The Best Car In The World. Now, I’m not so sure.
I would be lying if I said I hadn’t since considered ploughing the thing into a tree to claim the insurance pay-out.
What would you do with the (entirely hypothetical) money?
I would buy something quicker. A mobility wheelchair, for instance.
Oh c’mon. 0-100km/h times aren’t everything.
You are right. But they are something.
My diminutive shoebox-with-wheels does 0-100km/h in 13 seconds. Thirteen. That makes my car about as accelerative as continental drift.
Thirteen? In 2019. It must be old.
It’s a 2017 model.
Yikes. That’s bad.
“Yikes”, indeed.
Wait, you willingly bought that car new?
*Sigh* Yes. But that’s a conversation for another time.
So, what’s your point?
The point is, my car is slow. Embarrassingly slow. Painfully slow. Unacceptably slow.
But speed is relative. Perhaps it’s not slow. Maybe you’re just impatient.
Listen chump, when you want to merge into a stream of freeway traffic at 100km/h, 13 seconds feels like several lifetimes.
Governments around the world are fussing over vehicle emissions, however, I fear there’s a more serious issue in our midst.
Which is?
That vehicle manufacturers are producing and selling cars that are slower than the horses our primitive ancestors rode on 150 years ago.
Something needs to be done.
What do you have in mind?
Acceleration restrictions.
If a car cannot manage 0-100km/h in less than 8 seconds then it should be banned.
Why not just buy a quicker car?
Well, yes, I suppose I could do that too.
I sense you’re subconsciously frustrated you bought your car in the first place. You’re projecting that frustration onto an external phenomenon. It’s a coping mechanism.
I hate you.
I’m glad you booked that counselling session.
Please stop.
