Barrett Garese

Serendipity

As my office overlooks a rather crowded intersection in Beverly Hills, I oftentimes find myself, in rare moments of downtime (or while on hold) peoplewatching.  Peoplewatching in Los Angeles is an interesting thing - as well as a complete misnomer - as there are far fewer people who walk anywhere (including just down the block) compared to those who drive.  So in many cases my version of peoplewatching involves no people at all, just cars going about their left-hand turning duties, oftentimes wearing wheels and tires that cost more than my annual salary.

Earlier this week, while engaged in what almost nobody else on the planet can call “work” (catching up on youtube) I heard the familiar exhaust note of a Lotus Elise driving by.  I glanced out my window (dream car) to see what can only be described as by far the most exquisite Elise that I’d ever laid eyes on.  It was a color black that I’d never seen before, so deeply black that the familiar lines of the roaster simply disappeared into the shadows as it drove past the Beverly Wilshire.  Whomever the owner was (a remarkable person, I already knew) had repainted the car a completely matte black, so that instead of a reflective mirror-like finish, light itself seemed to simply fall into the car never to return.  The car reminded me of the Batmobile, and that’s just awesome.  Douglas Adams would have been proud.

I immediately went to Google and typed in “Matte Black Lotus Elise” and found the following picture

That was it, and it was gorgeous.  I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  I sent the picture to Beth and her response was exactly the same as mine “It looks like the Batmobile!”  She went a bit further though, “I would look really good in that car.”

“Really,” I remarked, “you’d be okay riding with me in a car so spartan that the passenger seat doesn’t even move?”

“I didn’t say I’d be in the passenger seat…”

I fired off an email to the local Lotus dealership saying how I’d seen this car, and asking whether it was a factory or custom paint job.  Unstated in the email was how I’d already decided to get one and was currently drooling at the mere thought.  Someday, I told myself, I will be able to afford a Lotus, and I will paint it matte black…and I will fight crime at night as a highly trained and greatly feared superhero.

After the pre-holiday shortened workday ended, I decided that despite my day ending, I had no reason to stop dreaming for the day and wandered down to the local Lotus dealership.  If I was going to dream, I told myself, dream big, dream often and with reckless abandon.  I walked into the showroom, shiny and as exotic as the cars it held.  The dealership was empty, leaving me alone and surrounded by various Italian and European cars with just my thoughts, and a salesperson who had told me “I’m not going to bother you, feel free to sit in anything you’ like, and I’ll be in my office if you have any questions or want to take a test drive.”

I walked around, “studying” them in my own fashion, which mainly consisted of trying very hard not to jump up and down, squeal like a little girl, or lick anything within admittedly easy licking distance.  I sat in a few, even moved the stick shift around and pretended to be blasting up PCH on my way to Carmel.  Not once did I catch myself making “vroom vroom” noises, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

About a half hour into this experience, with my imagination running wild on the showroom floor, a man walked by me and asked “thinking about getting a Lotus?”  I replied in the affirmative.  “Just do it man, seriously.  It’s one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself.  You’ll never go back and it will hurt you to drive anything else.”  I asked a few questions, found out some information, and he was enthusiastic, helpful, and offered to answer any and all questions I might have in the future.

I gave him my card, and after glancing at it he asked me “You work at an agency huh?  Talent or Lit?”  I explained what I did in the Online department and his eyes lit up.  “I’m starting a new online content company with XXX, YYY, and ZZZ.  What do you think of…”  We spent the next 45 minutes or so discussing the state of the industry, what we each think will work, what we think won’t, and I gave him a lot of advice on navigating this world and not making certain mistakes along the way.  At this point in the day I would simply count this as a very good and very coincidental business meeting.  We ended it with him asking if I could come over and meet with his partners sometime next week.  I agreed to help in any way he wanted, and we once again began parting ways.  “Hey,” he stated, off-hand, “want to see my Lotus?”

The smart ones reading this have already figured out where this is going.

“Absolutely,” I said, following him back to the garage.  As we passed through the door, I heard him mutter “I’ve made a couple changes…”

The matte black Elise looked even better up close, but it retained the same light absorbing qualities that I’d noticed from four stories and a hundred feet away.  It was beautiful in way that explicitly said “do not fuck with me”, like an F-117 stealth bomber is beautiful.  I walked around it as he told me the story of how it came to be, and what he’s done with it since.  I could only sit there, stare, and continue to circle the car.  I must have looked like a cat stalking an unwitting mouse; circling around over and over, running my fingers alone the lines as I went.

“Hey” he said, about to speak the second defining phrase of the day, “wanna go for a ride?”

“Fuck.  Yes.”

“Wanna drive?”

I very nearly pissed myself right then and there.  Three hours after I’d found my dream car, I could find myself behind the wheel.  The possibilities were astounding.  Talk about serendipity.  Then I did something I didn’t think possible, I thought rationally.
“You know, I absolutely would love to, I really really would.  But since I haven’t driven stick in a long time, I really don’t want to ruin your clutch.”
“I respect that man.  Hop in, I’ll take you for a drive.”

In a Lotus Elise you can hit 80 miles an hour in 6 seconds on Olympic Blvd with no traffic.  Don’t ask me how I know this, just trust me.  And it’s sublime the entire way.  It’s taut without being harsh, as well as faster and more fun than it has any right to be.  You also get a very good lesson in the various undercarriages and exhaust systems of modern automobiles because your eyeline is at about two and a half feet above the ground.  That is, until you downshift, the tach hits 6600RPM, and you blow it up to 9000, then you’d better be concentrating on nothing but driving.  The words “Redonkulous” don’t even begin to cover the acceleration, braking, and handling.  Corners were taken at speeds that so far as I could tell broke the laws of physics.  I could hear only three things: The engine, the driver, and my own giggling.

This was me about to drop a retarded amount of money by the end of the afternoon.  This was me wondering which cloud type my insurance premiums would emulate.  This was me wanting to be two feet to the left, in this car, on the open road.  This was me noticing that throughout the half hour jaunt, this car averaged 30MPG and then wondering if I could sell myself as needing this car from a practical standpoint; gas prices and all.  This was my dream car, and I was in it.

Once we returned, we bullshitted for another half hour or so but then I needed to go.  He promised that I was sitting in the best Lotus dealership in the country, and if/when I decided to take the plunge, he would help get me a good deal on the car and the paint.  I promised I would help him and his partners navigate this whole crazy online/new media world.  We parted ways each feeling like this was a very serendipitous afternoon.

I got into my soon-to-be old car and called, in this order, my bank, my insurance company, and my girlfriend.  They were gonna need a heads up.  There were about to be some changes in the Garese garage…