Thursday, May 11, 2006

Dear Ferrari Guy Driving Around Yorkville

Dear Yorkville Ferrari guy,

First off, let me say that I admire you. You are the type of person for whom doors open just in time for you to glide through them. The gather of your trousers breaks just so above expensive driving loafers - an apt choice of footwear, given your Ferrari driving ways. It is for this, and your tuft of white hair sprouting, Nixon-like in a perfect widow's peak above the windscreen (Ferraris do not have wind shields - for those who drive them are not afraid of the wind. In fact, those who drive them are the wind.)

Yes, I admire you. But let me get more to the point you knew was coming - you, pisano, are a complete and utter joke. You pull of the interesting treble of being not only old and rich (if not at least liquid enough to afford to finance a brand new Ferrari) but also looking more 905 than the 407. In fact, I bet that prancing horse of yours has a transponder. In quiet moments with your pederass buddies, you refer to your car as "my ride" don't you? More than likely as you enjoy a cigar. Well, perhaps "enjoy" is the wrong word. If "facade" was a verb, that is what you would be doing to your cigar. Maybe I should just stick with fellate - anyway, I digress.

Yesterday, I was working at a Starbucks on Yorkville avenue and you were driving by. Repeatedly. Word of advice Pusateri's on Bay has valet, OK? Or, you could just line up behind the guy with the "HAKIM 2" Bentley who parks outside Lettieri on Bel Air. At least that guy has the good sense to drive somewhere, and then park. Also, he just looks like he actually owns that car - you? You look like the indie rappers who rent Maybachs for the day, park them in front of the Chateau Marmont and drink ginger ale out of Crystal bottles. Flossin bee-yatch!

Later on yesterday, I went down to King and Spadina and who do I see - but you, cruising by Brassai and Crush and West multiple times. You have the worst luck finding parking! I'm sure you and your purring 12 cylinders support the troops hey motherfucker? But again, I digress. It's not about geopolitics. It's about me helping you not look like such a twat.

So, a simple word of advice to you Ferrari guy: PARK.