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"The New Yorker"
WHAT WOULD JESUS TEST-DRIVE
by Jesse Lichtenstein
Issue of 2003-11-03
Thirty-three percent of the public thought Jesus would not drive a sport utility vehicle, while 29 percent thought he would, 31 percent offered no opinion and 7 percent volunteered the reply that he would not drive, but walk.
—The Times, referring to a poll by the Pew Research Center and the Pew Forum.
Edgewater Cadillac
Sales Associate: And here’s our deluxe S.U.V., the Escalade. Comes in sable black, protective cladding, onboard DVD Navigation System, seventeen-inch seven-spoke cast-aluminum wheels.
Jesus: It catches the eye.
Sales Associate: All the luxury and craftsmanship you’ve come to expect from a Cadillac, but with the physical road presence to exceed all S.U.V. vehicles in its class. Go ahead, hop in.
Jesus: Nice.
Sales Associate: Ten-way power adjusting seats with power lumbar support and side bolsters. Let’s drive.
Jesus: All right. I notice the windows are really dark.
Sales Associate: Full tint job. Most of our high-profile clients demand it, so we keep it on the floor model.
Jesus: Gotcha. It handles really well.
Sales Associate: Deceptively smooth.
Jesus: O.K., let’s say I’m just curious: could I switch the wheels for twenty-two-inch chrome Momos and add a brushed billet grille, Corsa exhaust tips, Kicker Solo-Baric L7 subs, and a Magna Charger with a 4.5-p.s.i. boost?
Sales Associate: Piece of cake.
Jesus: What’s the gas mileage?
Sales Associate: [snickers] Sorry? Didn’t catch that.
Jesus: I’m just messing with you.
Biegler Honda and Mitsubishi
Sales Associate: Listen to that—almost silent.
Jesus: Amazing! It sounds more like a refrigerator than a car. It’s eerie.
Sales Associate: On these hybrids, the gasoline engine doesn’t kick in until you top twenty-two m.p.h.
Jesus: There it goes, I hear it. That’s fascinating.
Sales Associate: Take a left here.
Jesus: So, honestly, how many miles per gallon are we talking about?
Sales Associate: In town, you’ll get about sixty m.p.g.s. On the freeway, I can get you sixty-six.
Jesus: Sixty-six?! Really?
Sales Associate: I know, it’s a marvel. They should have had these years ago. Goodbye, staggering gas prices. So long, dependence on foreign oil cartels. And there’s the environmental aspect—you feel a little better about yourself at the end of the day.
Jesus: So how fast can it go?
Sales Associate: It’s perfectly adequate for freeway speeds. You aren’t going to be able to push eighty-five up a mountain pass with a U-Haul in the back, but for most people that’s not a problem.
Jesus: Oh. So it’s a little weak, then.
Sales Associate: You really won’t notice it much in your everyday life.
Jesus: What if I want to peel out at a stoplight?
Sales Associate: Well, it starts out with the electric motor, so . . .
Jesus: I see. Suppose some kid in a Corvette cuts me off, then floors it and starts to pull away?
Sales Associate: Well, I mean . . .
Jesus: Because it sounds like you’re trying to sell me a shiny new golf cart.
Riverside Hummer
Sales Associate: How’s it feel?
Jesus: Powerful.
Sales Associate: What did I tell you—it’s a rush. It’s like crack cocaine.
Jesus: It really is a remarkable feeling, being this high up.
Sales Associate: Like riding a bull. That’s a seriously mean toro beneath you, amigo. Who says size doesn’t matter, eh?
Jesus: It’s really big.
Sales Associate: You know, I envy you. I remember my first drive—I knew I could never go back. I’ve got two of these mothers at home now, Xena the Warrior and Sharon. As in Stone. Gotta take turns with them or they get jealous.
Jesus: I don’t know. I don’t think it would fit in my garage.
Sales Associate: Well, mortgage rates these days are rock bottom. A lot of my customers are refinancing and using the money to fix up the garage, add a deck, a Jacuzzi, a shooting range, what have you. So you could remodel the whole garage, have more space for your tools—you said you were a carpenter?
Jesus: Mostly finish work. Cabinets.
Sales Associate: Well, you can haul a pretty pile of cabinets in the back of this baby. And cabinets ain’t everything. Let me ask you this: Are you married?
Jesus: No.
Sales Associate: Correct answer. Now, take a look at me. Am I a handsome man?
Jesus: Um . . .
Sales Associate: Hey, tell it like it is—I’m no movie star, I know that. But let me ask you this: How many women did I pick up in Xena last week alone?
Jesus: Come again?
Sales Associate: I’m not talking about a friendly ride around the block. I’m not talking about “let me drop you off at your pedicure appointment.” The question is: How many women did I spread like Philadelphia cream cheese in the back of my H2 last week?
Jesus: Um, look . . .
Sales Associate: Go on, how many?
Jesus: I really couldn’t . . .
Sales Associate: How many?
Jesus: I have no idea. Two? Three?
Sales Associate: Unh-unh.
Jesus: Ten?
Sales Associate: Please. Now you’re ****ing on my parade. Five. Five! In one week! And that’s me. Now, take you. You’ve got the whole retro-fashion thing going for you—the sandal thing, the beard. Unusual for a man commanding six tons of steel, you follow? Keeps ’em guessing. And let me ask you this: Ever wondered what a Volkswagen Beetle sounds like as it’s crushed to scrap metal beneath your front axle?
Jesus: Not really . . .
Sales Associate: Like angels on high, amigo. Angels rejoicing on high.
"The New Yorker"
WHAT WOULD JESUS TEST-DRIVE
by Jesse Lichtenstein
Issue of 2003-11-03
Thirty-three percent of the public thought Jesus would not drive a sport utility vehicle, while 29 percent thought he would, 31 percent offered no opinion and 7 percent volunteered the reply that he would not drive, but walk.
—The Times, referring to a poll by the Pew Research Center and the Pew Forum.
Edgewater Cadillac
Sales Associate: And here’s our deluxe S.U.V., the Escalade. Comes in sable black, protective cladding, onboard DVD Navigation System, seventeen-inch seven-spoke cast-aluminum wheels.
Jesus: It catches the eye.
Sales Associate: All the luxury and craftsmanship you’ve come to expect from a Cadillac, but with the physical road presence to exceed all S.U.V. vehicles in its class. Go ahead, hop in.
Jesus: Nice.
Sales Associate: Ten-way power adjusting seats with power lumbar support and side bolsters. Let’s drive.
Jesus: All right. I notice the windows are really dark.
Sales Associate: Full tint job. Most of our high-profile clients demand it, so we keep it on the floor model.
Jesus: Gotcha. It handles really well.
Sales Associate: Deceptively smooth.
Jesus: O.K., let’s say I’m just curious: could I switch the wheels for twenty-two-inch chrome Momos and add a brushed billet grille, Corsa exhaust tips, Kicker Solo-Baric L7 subs, and a Magna Charger with a 4.5-p.s.i. boost?
Sales Associate: Piece of cake.
Jesus: What’s the gas mileage?
Sales Associate: [snickers] Sorry? Didn’t catch that.
Jesus: I’m just messing with you.
Biegler Honda and Mitsubishi
Sales Associate: Listen to that—almost silent.
Jesus: Amazing! It sounds more like a refrigerator than a car. It’s eerie.
Sales Associate: On these hybrids, the gasoline engine doesn’t kick in until you top twenty-two m.p.h.
Jesus: There it goes, I hear it. That’s fascinating.
Sales Associate: Take a left here.
Jesus: So, honestly, how many miles per gallon are we talking about?
Sales Associate: In town, you’ll get about sixty m.p.g.s. On the freeway, I can get you sixty-six.
Jesus: Sixty-six?! Really?
Sales Associate: I know, it’s a marvel. They should have had these years ago. Goodbye, staggering gas prices. So long, dependence on foreign oil cartels. And there’s the environmental aspect—you feel a little better about yourself at the end of the day.
Jesus: So how fast can it go?
Sales Associate: It’s perfectly adequate for freeway speeds. You aren’t going to be able to push eighty-five up a mountain pass with a U-Haul in the back, but for most people that’s not a problem.
Jesus: Oh. So it’s a little weak, then.
Sales Associate: You really won’t notice it much in your everyday life.
Jesus: What if I want to peel out at a stoplight?
Sales Associate: Well, it starts out with the electric motor, so . . .
Jesus: I see. Suppose some kid in a Corvette cuts me off, then floors it and starts to pull away?
Sales Associate: Well, I mean . . .
Jesus: Because it sounds like you’re trying to sell me a shiny new golf cart.
Riverside Hummer
Sales Associate: How’s it feel?
Jesus: Powerful.
Sales Associate: What did I tell you—it’s a rush. It’s like crack cocaine.
Jesus: It really is a remarkable feeling, being this high up.
Sales Associate: Like riding a bull. That’s a seriously mean toro beneath you, amigo. Who says size doesn’t matter, eh?
Jesus: It’s really big.
Sales Associate: You know, I envy you. I remember my first drive—I knew I could never go back. I’ve got two of these mothers at home now, Xena the Warrior and Sharon. As in Stone. Gotta take turns with them or they get jealous.
Jesus: I don’t know. I don’t think it would fit in my garage.
Sales Associate: Well, mortgage rates these days are rock bottom. A lot of my customers are refinancing and using the money to fix up the garage, add a deck, a Jacuzzi, a shooting range, what have you. So you could remodel the whole garage, have more space for your tools—you said you were a carpenter?
Jesus: Mostly finish work. Cabinets.
Sales Associate: Well, you can haul a pretty pile of cabinets in the back of this baby. And cabinets ain’t everything. Let me ask you this: Are you married?
Jesus: No.
Sales Associate: Correct answer. Now, take a look at me. Am I a handsome man?
Jesus: Um . . .
Sales Associate: Hey, tell it like it is—I’m no movie star, I know that. But let me ask you this: How many women did I pick up in Xena last week alone?
Jesus: Come again?
Sales Associate: I’m not talking about a friendly ride around the block. I’m not talking about “let me drop you off at your pedicure appointment.” The question is: How many women did I spread like Philadelphia cream cheese in the back of my H2 last week?
Jesus: Um, look . . .
Sales Associate: Go on, how many?
Jesus: I really couldn’t . . .
Sales Associate: How many?
Jesus: I have no idea. Two? Three?
Sales Associate: Unh-unh.
Jesus: Ten?
Sales Associate: Please. Now you’re ****ing on my parade. Five. Five! In one week! And that’s me. Now, take you. You’ve got the whole retro-fashion thing going for you—the sandal thing, the beard. Unusual for a man commanding six tons of steel, you follow? Keeps ’em guessing. And let me ask you this: Ever wondered what a Volkswagen Beetle sounds like as it’s crushed to scrap metal beneath your front axle?
Jesus: Not really . . .
Sales Associate: Like angels on high, amigo. Angels rejoicing on high.
(Me)
Stay Safe....
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