After putting Otto to bed and failing to write even a grocery list, I actually spent thirty minutes of my sleepy time last night watching a man drive thirty miles per hour in a white Bentley along the freeways of Southern California. I am just as bad as every chump who rubber necked and shouted at this dude who had threatened his girlfriend with a gun and then took the police on a car chase as exciting and death defying as The Pirates of The Caribbean ride at Disneyland.
The news coverage was disgusting as usual and bored losers came out of their houses and lined up on freeway over passes to cheer this guy on. The paparazzi got involved because they assumed only a celebrity could be driving a Bentley, a car that three different news anchors claimed were three different prices. One insisted it cost $100,000, another $150,000 and finally, some glorified weatherman reported it was, in fact, a $250,000 car and rumored to be a certain famous somebody that he could not name for legal purposes. They actually discussed at great length what make, model and price this car could be, and trying their HD TV best to not seem envious or star struck.
The chase then took a bizarre turn when the man stopped and refused to get out of the car for an exceedingly long time, confusing police and annoying the talking heads at the news desk who were speaking in circles about street names, police uniforms and the paparazzo’s common aggressive behavior toward Paris Hilton types. They seemed to have no idea that she is yesterday’s news. Read your own news stream, idiots! The anchors then tried to talk their way out of awkward dead air time by pointing out the irony that a Bentley would stop in from of a Toyota dealership and what significance that had in the case. Maybe he wanted to downgrade to a more environmentally friendly car or get better gas mileage as you so brilliantly pointed out at mile marker 17. Or maybe, just maybe you are the most frighteningly stupid bushel of rotten apples I have ever seen.
The absurdity of the scene sent me to bed hoping that the man would be all right and that the local news stations would somehow implode while I slept. When I got up this morning, I could not get the man out of my head, wondering what could have happened to the chump that bought that car. I am sure the news stations felt that this story was a huge ratings disappointment on every level, as the man turned out to be a nobody, the car was only valued at $100, 580.56 and rather than conveniently exiting the white, four door, Bentley Continental GT so the rabid on lookers could all get a better look, the driver killed himself inside the car, rather than stepping out for his fifteen minutes and doing a solid for this media hungry, violence obsessed, celebrity stalking world we all call home. Shame on us!
I want more for Otto, more respect, more kindness and more fuel injected R.P.M.’s with a 6.0-litre V12 powered engine. I want him to drive an Aston Martin DBS. Is that really so wrong?
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