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368 pages, Paperback
First published September 5, 2017
"The jock salesman at the Porsche dealership was always good for a dime bag. I'd do him in a new Boxster on the 210 at a hundred miles an hour." Today, Sunday, they are driving to the Armoury for the big speaker meeting there. The rain is steady. Harriet says, "Sounds like a real hard way to make a living." Gayle drags a finger through the fog of her breath on the window. "It's just a life," she says. "You work at a lousy job to get what you want, then sit around till you have to go to work again." "More like you do unspeakable things to get something that lets you forget what you just did." "Yeah," says Gayle. "Only it won't stay forgotten."
Overall, too, the designs of costly cars were more refined than those of normal ones. Of course the refinements didn't change a basic fact: all cars, fancy ones included, were aggressive, in appearance as well as function. So much metal and chrome, the side mirrors and antennae and dashboard icons, all of it a form of weaponry... Not worth thinking about, really -- the basic craziness of sitting in a metal box hurtling along with a bunch of other metal boxes, all of them weaving from one lane to another. And a good percentage of the drivers were sleepy or texting or drunk or drugged. Luxury sedans, though, could announce their efficiency and power without overdoing it. They offered their owners an illusion of safety, neatly packaged as exclusivity. You're different, their murmuring engines seemed to say to their drivers. Exempt from the usual dangers.