You think clothes make the man? Think again. Actions speak louder than words, and what you drive says more about you than apparel ever could.
What’s more, certain types of rides frequently appeal to certain demographics — to the extent that you could classify the drivers and their rides of choice after giving either the once over.
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Don’t believe us? Take a look around you while you sit in traffic: The red-eyed, neo-hippie in the VW, rustic Volvo wagon or old biodiesel Benz; Bohemian Rhapsody. A slouched playa in the old-man sedan on chromed 20" rims; Smoove Move. The smelly, messy, smoking, barely functioning wreck — with the matching guy delivering pizzas behind the wheel; Nothing to Lose, the Early Years.
If Ben & Jerry's would have named drivers and their rides instead of ice cream, it would go a lot like this.
Call it stereotyping, if you want to be like the self-righteous hybrid driver who saves additional energy by not signaling in traffic, sure. We have a name for them too, but our lawyers are giving us the stink-eye. Many of our lawyers are Porcupines, incidentally.
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This post originally appeared at AskMen.com.
Big Guys in Little Cars
The rides: MINI Cooper, Lotus Elise, Mazda Miata, Honda Fit, smart fortwo, and vintage British roadsters
It’s more or less like the "fat guy in a little coat" routine from Tommy Boy. In other words, Chris Farley-sized drivers in cars better suited to David Spade proportions.
These guys will forever absorb all the Shriners taunts slung at them and take great pleasure in driving their diminutive cars.
Just the act of these larger-than-life men getting in or out makes onlookers pause, while an imaginary drum roll plays during the feat, and they all wait with bated breath. Yet once they’re underway, somewhere inside their inner children are having the times of their lives.
The Porcupine
The rides: Porsche Cayenne, Hummer H2 or any other luxury SUV; also the smug nimrod who drives a BMW, Mercedes or Porsche convertible with the top down and windows up while wearing a hat.
What’s the difference between actual porcupines and these guys' rides? A porcupine’s pricks are on the outside. Thank you very much, we’ll be here all week -- tip your waitress. That’s a bad joke, but it gets laughs every time.
You know who doesn’t laugh? The Porcupines. They think they’ve earned the right to hurry up, tailgate and cut off traffic just so they can slow down and assert their presence on all the lesser motorists, take that oh-so-important call and generally ignore their driving while they dream of the next round of golf or the next opportunity they'll have to buy something beige.
Testosterossa
The rides: Camaro/Firebird, Corvette, Viper, and European exotics that have never had track time.
This is a well-represented category, and the stench of insecurity is nearly as thick as the cologne marinade. It’s populated by guys who think velocity equals virility. Nevermind that they haven’t the slightest idea how to really handle their rides beyond flooring it and going straight.
So, with shirts open and gold chains resting on a nest of chest hair, they flaunt what they think they've got and cruise for chicks. And they do get noticed. Women everywhere point and smile at them. If the guys weren’t cranking Boston’s Greatest Hits so loudly, they’d realize the ladies were actually laughing.
The rides: Camaro/Firebird, Corvette, Viper, and European exotics that have never had track time.
See the rest of the story at Business Insider