Circus

It is not often that something exciting happens outside the window of our office (watching a blonde reverse her shiny Peugeot out into the awning pole was a highlight) .
But today, I am witness to a very different kind of human caricature- the show-off (you know the kind- he was the first kid in school to get a SpaceCase).
A gentleman who works in a neighbouring building has recently handed over a (not so) small fortune of money for a new Ferarri (red, of course). And now, he is offering colleagues quick rides around the block, effectively making a circus out of himself and his new toy. Small groups of people traipse out into the road every few minutes, and cheer each time the car makes its noisy return; they stand in the mid-afternoon heat and wait to take their turn. A woman is taking photos with her digital camera (I'm guessing she was the teacher's pet in highschool).

The gloating driver fits the stereotype of the middle-aged, boep-endowed man, who has fallen under the spell of the prancing stallion that marks his car like a gang tattoo on a thug's hand. And yes, he is part of a new gang now (the kind with lots of disposable income, and a penchant for over-priced speed machines and golf club memberships), thanks to his prestigious purchase. I only hope that the novelty wears off quickly, because at the rate with which he is giving Ferarri tours of Mellis road, he is burning enough fuels to advance global warming ten-fold...

Fulvia