E55 Ownership-A Treatise on Antisocial Behavior
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W211 E55
E55 Ownership-A Treatise on Antisocial Behavior
I have always considered myself a "people person." An entrepreneur, I come into contact with individuals from all walks of life, all economic backgrounds. Being a sociable sort never hurts when doing business. I regard myself a good citizen and a responsible member of society.
It took ownership of an E55 to show me absolutely how wrong this whole notion is.
As it turns out, no car out there could be a more opposite assertion, nor has any car I’ve previously owned, including a few full-bore semi-race cars. At least those machines made no pretense of their purpose, their existence. The E55, as well as all of its Kompressor brethren, are rolling lies. Beautifully crafted slaps in the face to society as a whole.
A P-car, an F-car, a Viper, oh my. All of these sports cars tell you what to expect from the moment you glance at their purposeful forms, their immense rolling stock. The burble/shriek/wail from their tailpipes tell all to move over, a FAST CAR is coming through.
Not the E55. Its 4-doors and understated sheet metal pretend to be nice. It greets other cars while secretly clutching a large-bore handgun behind its back, “How are you today? Great. Lovely weather we’re – BOOM!” Dead car. By the time the faint whine of the supercharger is heard, it’s far too late. On to the next mark.
I can barely slide into its buttery leather without my pulse quickening, brow starting to glisten with the anticipatory sweat of some 500-odd ponies about to be rousted from slumber. The ventilated seats are helping, yet only add to the farce. Sure you’re a respectable car. Sure.
I turn the key and stir the beast. The quiet thrum of the mill contracts my pupils, flares my nostrils. My pulse quickens as the revs settle down to idle, and I am no longer the same man. I now crave raw meat and open road.
Searching -nay- hunting for a kill now. I grip the thick wheel while the tires shriek under the collective motivation of all of those foot-pounds, clutching in vain for traction on the tarmac. Finally underway, the blue haze from the protesting radials wafts out of the cabin. Along with it go the last traces of responsible adulthood.
The balance of the night is a blur. Fleeting images of an M-something shrinking in the rearview. Me throwing my head back and bellowing laughter at an RX-8 with NOS stickers. More tire smoke. A Cobra. Sleep.
I realize now I am actually an Antisocial. I pretend to be upstanding, only to take any and all opportunity given to break speed laws. Laws crafted by those who can’t understand the visceral pull of a forced-induction V-8, or its effects. Meh. Laws are for lesser machines.
How long can I keep up this dual existence? Dr Jeckyl needs to make a living, but Mr. Hyde needs to hunt. It’s only a matter of time before the wife finds out I’m not having an affair….then what? If it comes down to the wife or the car, I don’t know how what I’ll do…..I can’t get rid of the E55…….HELP !!!
It took ownership of an E55 to show me absolutely how wrong this whole notion is.
As it turns out, no car out there could be a more opposite assertion, nor has any car I’ve previously owned, including a few full-bore semi-race cars. At least those machines made no pretense of their purpose, their existence. The E55, as well as all of its Kompressor brethren, are rolling lies. Beautifully crafted slaps in the face to society as a whole.
A P-car, an F-car, a Viper, oh my. All of these sports cars tell you what to expect from the moment you glance at their purposeful forms, their immense rolling stock. The burble/shriek/wail from their tailpipes tell all to move over, a FAST CAR is coming through.
Not the E55. Its 4-doors and understated sheet metal pretend to be nice. It greets other cars while secretly clutching a large-bore handgun behind its back, “How are you today? Great. Lovely weather we’re – BOOM!” Dead car. By the time the faint whine of the supercharger is heard, it’s far too late. On to the next mark.
I can barely slide into its buttery leather without my pulse quickening, brow starting to glisten with the anticipatory sweat of some 500-odd ponies about to be rousted from slumber. The ventilated seats are helping, yet only add to the farce. Sure you’re a respectable car. Sure.
I turn the key and stir the beast. The quiet thrum of the mill contracts my pupils, flares my nostrils. My pulse quickens as the revs settle down to idle, and I am no longer the same man. I now crave raw meat and open road.
Searching -nay- hunting for a kill now. I grip the thick wheel while the tires shriek under the collective motivation of all of those foot-pounds, clutching in vain for traction on the tarmac. Finally underway, the blue haze from the protesting radials wafts out of the cabin. Along with it go the last traces of responsible adulthood.
The balance of the night is a blur. Fleeting images of an M-something shrinking in the rearview. Me throwing my head back and bellowing laughter at an RX-8 with NOS stickers. More tire smoke. A Cobra. Sleep.
I realize now I am actually an Antisocial. I pretend to be upstanding, only to take any and all opportunity given to break speed laws. Laws crafted by those who can’t understand the visceral pull of a forced-induction V-8, or its effects. Meh. Laws are for lesser machines.
How long can I keep up this dual existence? Dr Jeckyl needs to make a living, but Mr. Hyde needs to hunt. It’s only a matter of time before the wife finds out I’m not having an affair….then what? If it comes down to the wife or the car, I don’t know how what I’ll do…..I can’t get rid of the E55…….HELP !!!
Last edited by ChicagoX; 10-30-2006 at 07:34 PM.
#2
This is a great story, I would be very appreciative if you could continue this.
As for the specific thread, I'm going to sticky this -- it's just too good to pass up. A must read for all car enthusiasts particularly beast owners.
As for the specific thread, I'm going to sticky this -- it's just too good to pass up. A must read for all car enthusiasts particularly beast owners.
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04 E55
Someone figured out how to put that into words !!! Been really lousy weather in Chicago...but its 65 today and sunny... damn I couldn't wait to get this car out of the garage and on the tollway. What a rush....the faces on those that are unaware is priceless. Great story Chicago !!!
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'08 S65, '04 Range Rover(The House), '06 Lexus GS 300(Wifey's), '02 Sea Ray 360 Sundancer
There is great hunting today in the chicagoland area! Every sports car owner I know is trying to get his/her last thrills in for the year. I personally had just waxed up the "Beast" yesterday, and I am currently out looking for victims. As of this morning at 9am, only 1 trans am has taken a thrashing. There is a Buick Grand National that I have been trying to run across. Everytime I see him, I'm in the Range Rover. Hope I see him today, if so there's going to be trouble in the South Suburbs tonight!
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E55 AMG
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I just had to do something with your write up...The color of the image was tough to offset with the text color. If anyone wants the actual file shoot me a pm.
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W211 E55
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#19
Chicago,
GREAT STORY, I am in wash, d.c. and I can not find any real takers. Every now and again I get a rice cooker/lawn mower whatever you want to call them and I just look the other way. I did get and M5 one day but there was too much traffic for any real fun.
GREAT STORY, I am in wash, d.c. and I can not find any real takers. Every now and again I get a rice cooker/lawn mower whatever you want to call them and I just look the other way. I did get and M5 one day but there was too much traffic for any real fun.
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ML350 '06
Nice way of words...
...Its 4-doors and understated sheet metal pretend to be nice. It greets other cars while secretly clutching a large-bore handgun behind its back, “How are you today? Great. Lovely weather we’re – BOOM!” Dead car. By the time the faint whine of the supercharger is heard, it’s far too late. On to the next mark.
Quite possibly the quote of the year! Damn that sounds good!
Nick