My Other Car is a Private Jet

I recently overheard a conversation between strangers about how many cars one woman’s family owned. There is one for each of the kids, one for Mom, one for Dad, and oh yes, the Porsche. Reading the judgmental expression on her friend’s face, this woman quickly followed up to explain, “But that’s just for date night.” Phew, that was a close one! She almost looked like a pretentious “bougie” snob but she totally saved it by explaining that her expensive luxury car is basically just an accessory. “Don’t worry, we don’t go driving that around on a daily basis like rich people, blech! No, no, we barely use ours.” I don’t know about you, but I think that makes it worse. If I drop tens of thousands of dollars on something, I make damn sure I use the crap out of it. A Porsche is an expensive purchase to trot out just for date night. I don’t have so much as a matching pair of underwear for special occasions and you’ve got a dedicated vehicle?

But it’s really not the idea of the spare car that bothers me. I know lots of people with a spare ‘fun’ car that they take out only for joy rides or date nights or what have you. People work hard and can spend their money however they want. Just own it! I hate when people act like they are embarrassed by their wealth. If it is so embarrassing to own a Porsche, why did you buy it? And why did you tell me about it? If this Porsche is your deep, dark, upper-middle class secret, keep it in the garage and only take it out at night with the headlights off. Or, man up and be proud of it! Stand behind your choices! When you say you have a spare Porsche, don’t apologize for it, as you suppress a shit-eating “I’m so happy for me” grin. Just let it spread across your face and with a sigh, acknowledge the elephant in the room, “Yup, guess I’m pretty fucking rich!”