"Friends of mine who own a Q7 report high levels of disaffection from fellow road-users, including the steely, competitive refusal to let them out at junctions that used to be known only by the drivers of box-fresh Ferraris," writes Giles Smith in the Times.
Giles is making the point with regard to the bloated proportions of the Audi 4x4. Wrong. It's the badge.
Down through the ages, from Boudicca's British-Bristols badged chariot, there has at any one time been a make that annoys more than any other.
Remember the hate felt for Volvo drivers? When the rest of us were driving tin foil Fords and papier-mache Rovers, the Volvonistas hogged centre road in a nuclear bunker on wheels.
Safe in the knowlege that not even a direct hit from an industrial fridge could hurt them, they meandered about at seriously no speed at all , smirking superciliously. Have you ever wondered why so many orthopaedic surgeons drove Volvo 240s? It wasn't because they owned a big garage, I can tell you.
Then came BMW man. Someone had told him that toilet roll sales was the pinnacle of sexual prowess and he was going to drive so you made no mistake about it. Up your bum. So to speak.
Now we have the phenomenon of the Audi astronaut. Show him glimpse of space and he'll launch into it. The new morons of the motorway have swapped lanes. The A4 is the sales manager's car of choice, the small industrial unit owner's badge of self importance.
At least it shows a level of good taste and an appreciation of quality.
Oh, and just so we are clear that this is not specific to thrusting Dave Dymo executives, the Micra remains the car for the terminally beige and a 1.4 Corsa (with chrome tailpipes) the choice of the boom box generation.
Me? A Toyota Hi-Lux pick up.
Now yew get orf of moi laaand!
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