A couple of years back, I remember many old vehicles had stickers that read: “Do not laugh at my car; your daughter could be inside”. That got me thinking; why would an artist find it necessary to conjure up such a phrase and turn it into a business opportunity?
It turned out that I was foolishly innocent! In later years as I got to interact more with the girls, I would get to fully appreciate it. As I would painfully come to learn later in life, girls have a sickening, almost lustful infatuation with cars.
But not all girls, I suspect mostly those who in campus must have carried the tag ‘District Focus’ like acne on their faces! There is this pal of mine in campus who had fallen for a girl heads over heels.
They dated for a while, but three years after campus, in our first very lowly paying jobs, there was a marked change in her ‘passionometer’.
To see her, the brother was now required to schedule for an appointment. He could no longer pop in unannounced. As you would expect, like a flower devoid of frequent nourishment, the love withered.
We would spend many nights in dingy pubs gazing at the ceiling, wondering what could have happened as we helped the brother drown his sorrows. Then one day we got a breakthrough.
One of her former classmates in college confided in us that the girl had gotten a new man who had a big car. Apparently, the girl was so impressed by the man’s means that at the sight of an old car’s dashboard, she was more than willing to unleash her own dashboard!
This was irrespective of the fact that when they two lover birds were in college together, they weathered many storms. A love affair of more than four years was buried in the smoking bellow of an old jalopy.
This is not the only instance I would watch a brother lose out. Several times when catching pints in one of those dimly lit pubs in the alleys that you wouldn’t want your mother ever to get wind of your patronage, I watched young university male students lose their girls to other men.
All that a man needed to net a young damsel in a pub; is dangle his car keys. The girls would miraculously melt into the washroom, only to re-appear, this time at the guys’ table with the car at the corner.
Knowing that a brother was in for heartache, we would cut our losses and leave. When I landed my second job and hit the magical six figure salary, I bought a Subaru Forester. That was when I really noticed the attention. Girls always wanted to ride around with me, have me drive them home, and in rare cases even offered me “favours” to drive it.
I always turned those down because to me it wasn't worth losing my car in an accident for such nonsense. There was even one woman who basically stalked me because she thought my car was “hot”. Off course it is. But I didn't buy my car to get that attention; I bought it because I loved that car.
Then I met my to-be-wife. She just said “cool car”, and I responded with “Thanks, want a ride?” She coolly replied “No, I have got one of my own”, as she opened the door to her Subaru Impreza. She loves my car, as it has more power than hers, but I had to relentlessly pursue that woman for a year just to take her on a date.
To this day though, even with a wedding ring on my finger, there are still women who will randomly say: “I really want a ride in your car.” The only one to which I have obliged is my cousin's girlfriend, because she’s essentially family and I know she has no ulterior motive.
All said and done, will a nice car get you women? Yes. Will it get you the right woman? Not necessarily. There is that off chance that it is something you have in common that can help grow a developing relationship, but for the most part the right woman won't care what you drive, she will care about you.