The Blues

The Mercettes

On December 20, 2010, in Cars, News, by Rosie

This series of posts are based on fact. Names have been changed to protect the innocent, to preserve a world where wankers are entitled to their anonymity as well. It all started with a brand:

It all ends with the creation of two Quasi-Mercettes (Mercedes owners, who are only semi-classy) and a thousand tales of mirth and mayhem.

Recently, Dave turned 60.

It felt like only yesterday when he’d owned a 70s Ford Falcon GT, complete with rust, beer cans inside, chipped duco. It was, in fact, 1976 and the GT was a chick magnet.

Along with his porn-film moustache, his long sideburns, his devilish flares, Dave was set to ensure that all parents of that era LOCKED their daughters up.

Now, he locks his own daughters out.

To Dave’s credit, he has a new love at the age of 60. He hasn’t had to use RSVP or Twitter, hasn’t even had to regrow his facial hair or resort to plastic surgery. He’s just gone out, purchased a Merc, and voilà — the chickaboos come to him.

It’s not that the car is a racy colour. Nor that it has a sunroof, a stereo that thumps out Wham’s ‘I’m Your Maaaaan’ at noise pollution levels, a leather interior, cup holders, street namers, camcorders, iPads, foot massaging pedals … nah, it’s just that it ROCKS. It has the three point thingy that stands on the bonnet and a driver’s face to DIE FOR.

Dave has it made.

And that’s where Maude comes in. Look, she’s hardly one of Dave’s chickaboos, this needs to be established from the start, but she has known Dave for over 40 years and admires him platonically (and from afar).

By definition, Maude is an expat. It’s said that she flits into her hometown for ‘coffee & colonoscopy’, although she sits on her a-hole drinking so much more of the former, that her next colonoscopy is scheduled when Earth can view Uranus. She’s a woman of great expat deeds. She builds homes for the needy, lifts for the weak, shovels the dry dirt for those requiring gardens in times of drought. She’s an all-rounder, but recently she’s found herself without a car!

Lo and behold! Lo and be-whoo-hooo-be-hold! Dave has come to Maude’s rescue, scoured the lands and found her a wonderful, reliable bat-mobile (no puns intended re bat) in which to toot around as Madame De La Expat.

It’s not a Kia or Toyota (she sees plenty of those through expat eyes). It’s not a Wolvo (because they can be mispronounced to sound like women’s genitalia, and have a history of dagginess). It’s not even a Ford (SO 1970s!).

It’s a MERCEDES BENZ, baby!

As you may expect, now that Dave & Maude are true Mercettes they will be subjected to much ridicule (both blog-written and spoken), be mocked with abandoned, be asked to complete regular Class Questionaires (to ascertain whether they are high class enough to drive such a vehicular brand).

Until that time, I leave you with a limerick

There was a young expat called Maude

Who ‘needs a car, now!’ she had roared,

Called her bro-in-law Dave,

Who did owe her a fave

And now she’s a major-league broad.

(Not fraud)

The Mercettes appear courtesy of ‘Fangirl Sings the Blues’ imagination. This statement is made to ensure Dave doesn’t play his ‘my relative is a major legal mind in Australia and I’m suing’ … coz in reality, Dave doesn’t exist. Kind of.