OF A GOLDEN AGE

The Whole Foods store in the Sauganash neighborhood of Chicago has a stupid-small parking lot full of too-narrow spots. If everyone drove a Chevy Corsica, we would have a lot more spending cash as a society and this parking lot wouldn’t be a complete nightmare. Usually I end up climbing out of my car like a spider monkey because some giant Lexus SUV parked on the white line.

This week I walked out of the store and saw an unfamiliar car idiotically parked in the fire lane. I double-taked and realized it was a Rolls-Royce, which makes a tie for best car I’ve ever seen in person — this and a Lotus Esprit on North Avenue over the summer. A guy who works in the building next to mine drives a Bentley but it’s a “low-end” model. Maserati, like many modern high-end car makers, has spread itself across a lot of markets. Similar: that Jaguar-Ford starter car they’ve finally, thankfully, stopped selling in the U.S. It’s kind of a fancy Taurus. You see why this is terrible.

Returning to the Rolls though, we must ask ourselves: If you drove a Rolls-Royce, why would you take it to the market? When I called my dad to tell him about this, he pointed out that when you’re that rich, it probably doesn’t matter to you all that much. People don’t save up to buy a Rolls; they buy them once they’re rich enough that it’s literally the most expensive car they can buy, and even then they likely could spare a lot more.

These people live in another world, but as they say, sometimes worlds collide.

* I don’t have a Maserati and neither do you: Joe Walsh did. Learn some pop culture.

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