XE Lovin’
“Damn, what a fucking letdown,” hotshot Danny Lubricae spat in front of his nameless date. “Worst lounge in Manhattan, I don’t know how they’re staying afloat. My Bloody Mary still had bones in it! The joint down the block uses puree, even these bottom-feeders should be able to follow suit.”
On this blustery and bitterly cold winter night, Danny and his date huddled together on the fraying turquoise carpet outside of “Driving Machine” lounge, expectant of the valet. Out of the corner of his eye, Danny noticed a mud-splattered Mercedes-Benz S-Class and retched all over his date’s Louis Vuitton pocketbook. Quite quizzically, Danny gathered, his date’s gaze remained fixed on whatever she had been looking at before. Then, for the first time that night, Danny noticed that his date had no eyebrows. But where those eyebrows should have been appeared a sudden furrowing of skin and, panning outwards, an utterly confused stare.
His ears perking up like those of a Tibetan Masti during the hunt, Danny immediately knew the bewilderment that had first claimed his date. The sound, which seemed to be emanating from a side street to the west, was a rickety growl like that of lawnmower. Suddenly, a BMW M3 turned the corner and sputtered to a stop, clearly struggling with the adverse conditions. Danny vomited on his Ferragamos and shat himself.
“Now, where is that valet?”
Danny just so happened to look eastward and, in a split second, saw an Audi A6 plow headlong into a garbage truck. Danny had no fluid left. It had all frozen in various places on his well-oiled physique. Disabled by his own bodily movements, he could barely move. A beam of white heavenly light then illuminated the pavement before him, soon followed by its source. The 2016 Jaguar XE, the newest Brit muncher of German autos, glided to a stop in front of the unworthy turquoise carpet. Danny, enlivened by the sight, swept up Nameless and placed her in the cabin of his heart. Danny then circled the car, his hand drawing a sensual line along its hood. Kissing the door panel, a cloud lifted Danny onto his throne. He gave it a moment. And the engine purred to life just as Danny unzipped his pants. Nameless, picking up on what she thought had been implied, gathered her hair in a ponytail and began to lean down. Placing a hand on her mistaken shoulder, with the gentility of a monk, Danny guided her back to her rightful resting place. Relieved of his confining belt, Danny spread his wings.
The lights of the city a blur, Danny raced down Fifth Avenue without the slightest qualm. Even with all the sights that could have been seen, Danny cared for only one. His palms perspired just so that his grip on the wheel and shifter were enhanced. His eyes, level with the steering wheel’s summit, were fixed on the road ahead. Mind and body at peace, man and car became one; each the source of the other’s arousal.
Liberated from the city, Danny rocketed down the freeway. A true enthusiast will tell you that the faultless driving experience cannot be complete without the execution of the perfect turn. Dialed in, Danny was about to carefully lay down the icing on the cake. A massive yet sharp turn snaked out before Danny, XE and Nameless. Time slowing to a trickle, Danny’s most primordial driving instincts kicked in. One thought only claimed sanctuary in his mind: “Apex. Apex. Apex.”
As Danny entered the turn, his eyes glued to the slowly yet also quickly approaching apex, Danny’s hormone levels catapulted skywards. Nameless, cognizant of this sudden imbalance, sensed that something important was about to happen. APEX APEX APEX APEX. And just as Danny plowed through the APEX, with the aptitude of a god grappling with unprecedented G-Force, Danny let himself be free. Droplets of the sacred liquid, suspended in space-time and scattered airborne all about the cabin, brought the miracle of snow to the XE. Like a hungry gorilla, Nameless slurped each one of them up one by one, with such skill, such poise. And after those few milliseconds, they drove on.