Ford or Tesla? — a short story

Posted on 2017 April 30

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“There’s a Ford and a Tesla available.”

“How much is the Ford?”

“About sixty cents a mile.”

“And the Tesla?”

“Maybe a buck.”

A dollar?!? Forget it. The Ford’s cheaper. And it’s a perfectly good car.”

“Sure, but the Tesla has that terrific sound system. And the seats are super-comfy. Besides, this is our anniversary. We should splurge a little.”

“Why aren’t we taking the hyperloop to Vegas?”

“We will on the way back, remember? But we’re gonna drive out there for old time’s sake.”

“We won’t exactly be driving.”

“True, the car will do that automatically. But that’s not the point. The point is we can look out across that amazing desert. Those raw mountains with their streaks of color. The smell of creosote on the breeze. It’ll be wonderful. Remember that time we got stuck in Barstow? And you—”

“Don’t remind me.”

“C’mon, Sugar, you had a blast on that trip.”

“Not in Barstow.”

“It was part of the whole adventure.”

“Maybe. But the trip to Vegas will take hours.”

“Are you grumpy?”

“No, darling, I’m just … nervous. This is a big anniversary and I want it to be perfect.”

“We always have a great time.”

“That’s true.”

“It’ll be terrific, my little Worry Wart. Anyway, we don’t have to spend the entire ride out there just sitting grandly while we’re chauffeured by the latest automotive technology. We can climb into those back seats and, you know, join the Mile-High Club.”

“We won’t be in an airplane, silly.”

“No, but some of those passes will get to a pretty stiff altitude.”

ba-DUM-chh!

“Cute. Anyway, sometimes it goes up to twenty-five hundred feet on that road. So we could, you know, start a Desert Half-Mile High Club? C’mon, babe, you know you want to.”

“Ooh! Stop it, that tickles.”

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…”

“Ooh. Ooh! … Wait, the neighbors! Not in front of the window.”

“Party pooper. Are we all packed and ready?”

“Yes. Place the order.”

“Aye-aye … Done. The Tesla will be here in five minutes. I’ll start hauling luggage.”

“I thought you were gonna use that new Private Porter doohickey.”

“Oh right! Almost forgot. Now, where’d I put it? … Here it is. Okay, switch it on … check. Load luggage … urf, check. Okay, now I have to talk to it. Let’s see, push this button… Take these to the end of the driveway … It’s working! Sweetheart, quick, open the front door. This model can’t reach the handle.”

“There you go, Mister Robot Porter Thingy. On your way. Say, why do we still have a driveway? We haven’t owned a car in years.”

“Because the driveway came with the house?”

“We could replace it with lawn, or put in a pool or something.”

“Good point. Let’s discuss it on the way. Car’s here. Did you bring the booze?”

“We can’t drink on the road.”

“Yes we can! Remember last month they passed that law that lets passengers imbibe in driverless vehicles? It’s the future, baby! Vegas, here we come!”

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