Recently, we hosted a couple from out of town. We wanted to show them different parts of the city and hired a car to take us around. Mr. K requested an SUV providing us plenty of space to ride around in comfort. And there was, as the car that came to meet us was a GMC, three rows of seats included. Immediately we felt unease. The car had a high floor, requiring us to step up into it, and the third row was situated behind the back door. There was only one way in, inelegantly, rear end high in the air, confronting all parties involved and innocent passers by.
With sadness, we made our way in, a recognition of what it might feel like to be 11 years old on your way to soccer practice, being ferried about by your mom. There was no grace in twisting into the back row, not even a gentleman’s hand could smooth out the contortions required to be seated. This was a box meant to entertain a group of men on their way to a bachelor party. It was not suitable for a lady, there was no hint of the refined.
At that moment we thought of the one thing that could be our rescue. A suitable sedan. A glamorous, sleek, low to the ground, purring, minx of a sedan.
The kind that would allow a simple bend at the knee,
A graceful slide in,
And offer the appropriate cradling of our body, a place of relaxation, happiness, warmth, a return to all things civilized…only ever Mercedes.
Images Via Motortrend