Who could be more disenchanted with cars than the men who work at the carwash at the corner of Sunset and Alvarado? But when I pull the Bentley in, the workers eagerly scrimmage for positions around it. These are guys who are standing in rubber boots half filled with cold, soapy water, whose hands must hurt from the biting detergent. Why are they so happy to see me?
The crew foreman scoffs at the Lexus waiting in line. "This is a true car," he says in Spanish.
When (not "if") I hit the lottery, I'm gonna have a 4WD Bentley pickup. No Rolls for me, too ostentatious and uppity.
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