The DOMN8R

I've never owned, or even driven a really nice car. In high school, my first car was given to me by some family friends. That sounds like a generous gesture until you consider that it was a '78 Buick Le Sabre with a rusted light blue paint job, no air conditioning or heater, and a ceiling that was quickly and completely deteriorating. Not exactly a chick-getter for a high schooler on the prowl. After that faithful beast was laid to rest I drove my grandmas '84 Volvo station wagon which I purchased from her for a handsome $100. That baby lasted me through college, and we shared some special times together before I ultimately passed her down to my younger brother.

You'll be happy to know that my automotive status has gradually improved over the years - but not by much. I'm 29 now and drive a Mazda Protege which, while it is reliable, functional and generally a great (if small) car, it is not necessarily a particularly thrilling automotive experience.

Truth be told, I'm not really a car guy, so it doesn't bother me that I don't drive a sleek Euro-charged sport-sedan, but I must admit that on occasion I do daydream about what it would be like to own a brand new Porsche. I'm so lame when it comes to cars that I don't even know enough about Porsches to know what make or model I would drive - I just know that they're fast and awesome.

But here's the thing about owning a Porsche - I'm afraid that once you do, you become the Porsche Guy. I think you know what I'm talking about. The Porsche Guy is a slick talking, free wheeling, Italian leather wearing, womanizer who lives in a track home mansion and drives his Porsche like the powerful, expensive trophy of a car that it is. I came face to face with the Porsche Guy recently. He passed me (in my Protege) so quickly that that we made eye contact for only a split second. As he raced by I caught a glimpse of his personalized license plate before he disappeared into the night. The letters on his plate read: DOMN8R. It's true, that dude in his shiny black Porsche was indeed the DOMN8R, and I (and my faithful Protege) had been dominated.

You see, that's exactly what I'm afraid of. You buy a Porsche and you turn into the kind of guy that writes DOMN8R on his license plate. Come on man, that kind of thing is terrifying for the rest of us 4-cylinder-economy-class motorists. What do you need to prove anyway? Why you gotta go around intimidating us off the road?

I'm sure there are some guys who are Porsche owners who are not the Porsche Guy, and if those guys are reading this now, I need to hear from you to find out what it's like. Until I become convinced otherwise, I will remain a closet Porsche coveter for fear of taking on the personality of the Porsche Guy, or worse yet... the DOMN8R.