MINI Coopers as Social Networking Tools

Today my MINI Cooper is having its check-up.  And I’m driving a loaner.  And I feel invisible. And all out of sorts.

The guy at the loaner counter couldn’t be bothered to figure out the difference between a Hyundai and a Honda as he gave me a consolation prize to drive for the day while my baby gets tuned up in anticipation of roadtripping down south a couple of times this month… and all I can say to that is that anyone who drives a MINI would NOT mistake it for anything else.

Even the separate lines at the dealership scream “MINI owners love their cars.”  The BMW line is full of tired looking older guys.  The MINI line is full of people who look, if not downright happy, glad to be taking care of a good friend.  The BMW guys in suits are reading newspapers.  The MINI folks in blue jeans are reading fun stuff or brought their laptops (usually MACs) to do something creative while they wait.

Ok, this is not a scientific sampling with reliable data. It’s entirely biased.

But I’ll say that if you are introverted, shy or don’t know how to start conversations easily, get yourself a puppy, a baby or a MINI.  The MINI is the least trouble and — probably — the least expensive all things considered (ok, maybe not).  

And there is a guarantee that at least weekly a stranger will ask you if you love your MINI, what sort of mileage it gets, how you chose your particular style of tricking it out (you design it online and await its arrival; rather like being in labor) and whether you will ever drive anything else.  Then they’ll say, “Well I’ve been thinking about getting one, and you’ve convinced me.”  

Then they say, “Have fun.”  I want to say “You too…” but I just don’t know if it’s possible for them.

So today, I’m feeling “unfun” and generic, and I’m wondering why no one is smiling at me in traffic.  I always thought it was me they were smiling at.  Now I know it was the MINI.  Or at least me in MINI mode.



Me on a Happier Day

Me on a Happier Day

~ by Cary on October 6, 2008.

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