PICTURE A LARGE Rottweiler, all teeth and steely bunches of muscle. Then look up at the owner straining at the leash. Ten to one says he’s sporting a sturdy heft to the shoulders and similar set to the jaw. So it is with cars. Not that a prancing horse confers any more appeal to a medallioned chest, a bad attitude and a toupee, more that a car allows you to buy a certain personality. You become it behind the wheel. And owners start to live out the things the brand stands for.
We tend to generalise about it, often with good reason. Mercedes drivers hog the fast lane no matter how slowly they’re wafting; BMW owners are taught in the academy of taxi drivers to cut you off, force gaps and raise the finger at your response. Discovery drivers tend to be doing their nails and chatting to their tennis coaches on cell while browsing the leafy suburbs, but that’s another story.
My concern is with Audi drivers. You would think ‘middle of the road, eye for quality’. But picture an A3 and what pops up behind the wheel in imagination is a pouting blonde daddy’s girl with a ponytail or a gelled junior prat who’s managing the family investment account. But it’s the A4 sedan drivers that worry me most. What happened to sensible? They all seem to have become brash, pushy managers on the make; guys driving between lanes while they lizard their way through deals by Blackberry; or overtaking on solid lines as they attempt to own the road in training for a place higher up the corporate pecking order.
So then the Ed asks me to act as temporary custodian of the new 176kW/500Nm 3.0-litre TDI quattro Tiptronic that’s just landed in the Topcar fleet. ‘Yessireee,’ I say, thinking of that superbly crafted interior and impressive torque figure. Followed soundlessly by, ‘Oh no, what will I become. What will my tree-hugging friends think. A lifetime of penance in the Gulag for carbon offenders ahead, etc’
Needless to say I never mentioned any of the latter reservations to the Ed. Thoughts of those low profile tyres clawing at the tarmac as the six-speed auto slipped seamlessly through the gears cast doubts aside. A session with the B&O sound system on full music alert and the sunroof set to toast soon had me in a different grip. What logically followed was the imperious passing of lesser mortals in Toyotas and Nissans and Fiats, because suddenly I can. In fact there’s no choice. Sadly, it has all become a reality. A few hours behind that solid wheel and I have become my own worst enemy: a complete tosser in an Audi. Oh well, someone’s got to do it.