My Bugatti-driving colleague finally understood the Twingo thing
I carpool with a colleague who’s in his mid-30s. He’s Moroccan, drives a Bugatti Veyron, and is very proud of it. He loves driving fast, and he’s always been very confident about how quick his car is.
We normally just take turns driving. One day he drives his Veyron and I’m the passenger, the next day I drive my Twingo manual and he’s the passenger. That’s just how we’ve always done it.
I’ve told him more than once that driving a Twingo does something to you. He never really understood what I meant.
His Veyron actually has about 931 more horsepower than my Twïzzy, but that’s not really the point. It’s the feeling of using every single one of my 68 horses at all times. You can be absolutely flat out, thrash it in third gear redline it at 4,000 rpm, completely legally so, and it’s a level of fun you can’t get elsewhere.
Then one day, I asked him if he wanted to drive The Twingo.
We had barely merged onto the motorway, throttle pinned to the floor mat, when he looked over at me. He had this almost glassy look in his eyes and said:
“Now I understand what you mean.”
The 1100 horsepower guy finally understood.
It’s better to drive a slow car fast than a fast car slow.