|
Purple Reign
Car of Choice: Mercedes-Benz CL500
Destination: The Prince Concert
Point A: Brooklyn, NY
Point B: The Meadowlands, East Rutherford, NJ
Scenario:
Steam rose from the pavement as the moisture in the air threatened
to liquefy into another downpour. We set out on a mission, thankful
for a lull in the storm, decked out in our Sunday evening best --
sassy dresses, bold high heels and concert tickets tucked safely in
my comrade’s purse as I clutched two sets of keys in my palm.
The critical moment arrived --selecting the choice vehicle. Two Ladies
on a mission: We were going to the Prince concert determined to roll
in style.
My road dog had traveled 600 miles from the Motor City for this moment
and nothing was stopping us – not even the most torrid weather
conditions. We agreed the wild July weather was appropriate; it was
as if we were served up a prelude of purple rain.
Weighing our options, we eyed down the competition -- a sexy as hell
Z06 Corvette that was thematically appropriate – except for
one small detail – it was silver not red - but with the nasty
weather, we opted for sophisticated sturdiness over sporty appeal,
seven-speed automatic over six-speed manual transmission. We put the
Vette on hold and made moves.
Our chariot of choice, A Mercedes Benz CL500, waited in earnest,
parked on the street in two-door coupe grace. We eased our way into
the cushy lead-colored leather seats that snugly held our tightly
kept forms– like a limousine built for a driver with 42-inches
to stretch out. Who said ladies can’t ball with the best of
them?
As the car roared to life, the side mirrors perked up like a set
of ears, settling into position in the clear from close-cutting traffic.
Though our decadent ride took up almost 200 inches from front to rear
end, we eased out effortlessly, with the aid of the warning signal
when we came within inches of any possible hazard.
We had printed our map out from Brooklyn to Jersey, foolishly forgetting
that the CL has DVD Navigation. My companion busied herself with buttons
as we got underway — a move that would prove critical to our
journey. Though we had a short distance to travel, time was of the
essence and has a way of sneaking up on you in a New York minute.
One wrong turn could threaten timely arrival. It was 6 p.m. We had
90 minutes at our disposal – which could be lost to a nasty
backup.
 
 
But the sheer joy of the experience swept us away –
pushing the Benz on the Manhattan Bridge. The 5.0 liter-V-8 engine
responded authoritatively cranking out 302 horsepower that made my
companion holla, “Yeeahh,” as I punched the gas. On hand
is 339 lb-ft of torque that allows the German coupe to hit 60-mph
in just over six seconds.
As I slowed down for safety’s sake, I coolly explained to her
that Mercedes made an even more powerful version in the CL55 AMG and
CL600, but she checked me. “Girl, this is a hot car.”
As I gleefully eased the walnut wood shod steering wheel to the left
into Manhattan, I gave her a mischievous smile.
It was time for the warm-up tunes. We popped in our
Detroit-bass, jamming to the sounds emitted from sweet Bose speakers
and rolled onto Canal Street, pointing in the direction of the Holland
Tunnel toward New Jersey. Traffic was thick and we were jammed up
and causing a scene with the music pumping, as one cat yelled from
the street, “Baby, can I marry you? You got good credit!”
The rain fell in dollops, so we tilted the open sunroof to enjoy
the fresh air without getting soaked. And as the situation turned
bleak, it really poured – a pounding blast of rain deflected
on the windshield as the streets grew slippery, but thanks to trusty
stability control, Active Body Control suspension and smooth throttle
intervention, the rain did not cause any slip ups and we kept our
cool in the cockpit.
As the storm subsided, the navigation system saved the day, and like
a vision, we saw the signs – The Meadowlands. We coasted into
the eager line of cars entering the gates of the Meadowlands. We had
twenty minutes before the concert began. The rain eased off for the
moment, but the crowd was intense. Crazy New Jersey drivers cut in
and out of lanes narrowly missing the bumper of our busty ride.
Finally, we coasted in with 10 minutes to spare. The CL500’s
cushy interior paid off. We jumped out, kicked off the heels, grabbed
an umbrella, and made for will call. By 7:30 we were seated second
row, front center, and main floor for Morris Day & the Time’s
opener. Feeling like superstars, with eagerly awaited the amazing
artist known again as Prince.
Five hours later, we emerged from the arena, breathless and drained
from dancing in our seats, on our seats and, even by invite, on the
arena stage. We danced to every song they threw our way (including
Purple Rain).
We drove the CL home using the set it and forget it Distronic Adaptive
Cruise Control and couldn’t imagine a finer lap of luxury than
ours!
Choice Bits: From Roaddog Diva, “You’re
sheer perfection. It doesn’t matter where we go, just take me
with you.” Now if only I had the $94,100 to make my CL500 fantasy
a reality. Sigh!
|
|