Sneakors Paradox

Much of my trolling has been around Brad and dis is cuz he’s kinda perfect.  Smart enough to engage, but scatterbrained enough to lose track wid a deep streak of narcissism.  And when things gets out of hand he loses his shit and that's when the chortles start. But there was an entire shop worth of peoples; be such a shame to leaves dem out of shenanigans.

I knows what you is tinking; ‘How is Sneakors going to keep dem from guessing the unicorn?’  Actually pretty easy. Unless you is a cutie girl you has no idea what I does. So I gave dem some help.  All the helps; too much help really.

While looking for a car I told people my requirements; a nondescript sportscar.  At least 200 horsepower, decent handling, strongly prefer manual, but the desire for AWD seemed odd.  Budget of $15,000. Then after I had the unicorn in my possession I doubled down. Showed off cropped photos of the bill of sale; officially $11,900.  Insurance was $56 a month. Horsepower greater than my mom’s V8 Mustang. Mechanically functional wid body damage. Under 80,000 miles with a manual transmission.  Except there is just the tiniest of wrinkles; this car does not exist. Like if you, obviously a guy in his early 20s and not a super cutesie girly, sits down and puts everything togethers den there is no possible matches.  You can use all the search engines and flip through all the cars; you gets nothing.

And I knows you gets nothing cuz I got nothing.  I got nothin’ for months. Until one day there was a hiccup in the system; the unicorn appeared.  A diamond white beast amongst the rough grey and black cars at some hole in the wall dealer. Place so shady it was dark on a bright sunny day, but there I was as soon as I could arrive.  Greeted by a receptionist who didn’t realize I had an appointment. Eventually introduced to the non-descript manager I legally can’t describe. Finally shown a singular G37 in sparkling white.  I saw how beautiful Sport was and returning it momentarily was like handing a puppy back to the people at the shelter; that panic it'll be snatched at the last second. And I asks you what would you do if you saw a magical beast in the hands of the devil?  If the sleaziest salesman had the most beautiful jewel? I know I signed that check and scampered off as fast as Sport could go. Except I told you this place was made of shade; dat title came up missing. I’m not a member of the investigation, but it’s safe to say some things went down.  Rumor of searching offices and tracking down owners; real owners. I told you I couldn’t legally describe the manager. What I can describe is a nondescript car that I shouldn’t own which, according to the car sales sites, doesn’t normally exist. Nothing exists.

This is what I was confronted about.  Funny enough a frazzled Brody knew he wasn’t getting a straight answer.  He was looking for a ballpark. However no matter what he brought up the numbers betrayed him at every turn.  Couldn’t be an ecobox because of the power. Couldn’t be a Muscle car because of the insurance. Couldn’t be luxury because it was manual.  Couldn’t be old because of the features. Couldn’t be new because of the price. Except Brody was one step ahead. He knew nothing added up except he had a piece of info I’d never intended to give; my tire size.

When I bought my car the rear tires were less than mint.  Woulda just bought some but they were stupid thin and even stupider wide; we didn’t stock em.  So I needed a service writer to quote me a warehouse order. Thought I could get by on the down low, but word got out that I needed one thousand dollars for 4 tires.  245/40R19 doesn't match anything so it was obvious the car was modded.

However I stonewalled him.  He just needed a bit of info or a direction to go in.  After setting up the registers we had a good 5 minute walk as his bewilderment increased.  So many cars to choose from and wrong choices to make; the best of choices. He short circuited around the time I was making jokes about using a circus cannon to shoot myself to work everyday.  By his own description at night he watched me vanish into the rain.

I knows you suspects I done a fib, multiple fibs, all the fibs, but everything was truthies; full truthies.  The cost, the description, and even that tire size. And I knows u will protest that it can’t possibly handle, but that’s the thing.  When I wandered out into the rain I didn’t find a mongrel; I happened upon my unicorn. A creature meeting every descriptor given including it’s tire size; stock staggered tire size.  Brody couldn’t possibly know, but deep down he still knew that he could hear my burbles scamper off into the night unimpeded by the rain.