- Lost in Time
We're eating lunch and I'm thinking about the day. So we flew out to Charlotte to see the car, the Merc C1000, because that's what we do, my trusty mechanic sidekick and I. However, first, you need an appointment to see it, but we were able to get by that. Maybe it was my Da Vinci watch? My Hermes suede jacket (might be fake, my wife bought it off ebay)? Or just my winning, charismatic smile? Heh, funny. Possibly it was because I'm 6' 3" and change, and today I'd decided to wear boots with a 2" heel, meaning for all intents and purposes I was six and a half feet tall, with a proportional, nearly Lurch-like frame. Height has advantages, especially in face-to-face negotiations. I'm not above looming over people, when the situation calls for it, I'm a good loomer. Anyway, she got a salesperson on the horn and told them to come out and serve us. Yes, she actually said "serve", it made me feel like we were at a Starbucks, and frankly, the place sort of looked like a Starbucks, so I guess it fit.
I'd been there before, I'd bought something, but at that moment I was too sleep-deprived, with too many body aches, to remember what it was (BMW 1M coupe). It's really bad when you start forgetting where you bought cars from, you walk in and have a vague sense that you'd written a check there and left with a vehicle... Anyhow, a young "dude" (he must have said "dude" >50 times) came out within 5 minutes, during that time I checked out a 458 Spider on display; rosso corsa, 1 y/o, and 23 miles on it. Her virginity was still intact and she smelled like a new Italian handbag inside. Arousing.
"Hello Mr. R******, how can I help you this morning?" Crap, he knew me, remembered me, but I didn't recall ever seeing
him before, he also wasn't wearing a name tag. Why don't they make the people in these places wear tags? Arrgh. So, I took a leap of faith, intuition took over. Hrmm... snooty car place... overly-tanned WASP salesman, who looks like a former high school jock, with too much product in his hair and too much cologne. I went with the obvious, "Hi Brent." He grinned. "Actually, it's Brant, but that was really close, we've only met once before, I think. Great memory." Damned vowels. I nodded, gave him a small smile. "Thanks, good to see you again", and I shook his offered hand, then introduced my mechanic. "Thought I'd come out and see that Benz-Lotec C1000 in person." His eyes lit up and he smiled very wide, his parents must have spent a small fortune on his teeth. "Okay dude, let me go get the key for that, you'll absolutely want to hear the engine, no doubt." He was 100% correct on that.
On the way to the locked alcove where they kept the car, he talked, and talked, and talked. I nodded and made grunts in the affirmative. "We're getting a P1." "We have a 918 now." "There's a Phantom Coupe." "We just got in a `70 Daytona GTS/4 Spyder on consignment." I almost put the brakes on, right there. "Brant, put a pin in that last one, maybe we'll check it out after the Benz." "Will do." I looked around but didn't see it, likely squirreled away in its own room as well. Then we arrived at the right place and he took out his keys, unlocked the door, and we went in. The private viewing room was roughly 20'x20', enough room to view the car and walk around it in privacy, but not so much that they're wasting showroom space, and there in front of a large tinted window was the car. It was wide and long, with a very unique aero and shape, it's one of those cars that oozes "90s Supercar". 100% carbon fiber body, barely over 1000kgs, and almost exactly 1000bhp (850lbs/ft). 2.8s was the journalist recorded 0-60mph, but many thought that was limited by an unfamiliar foot on the clutch causing excessive wheelspin. Koenigsegg has the One:1, but this car was almost there already, and it was going on 20 years old. It was the car that whipped the McLaren F1 in independent testing, in any metric you cared to measure, and then disappeared into a private collection in the Middle East, not to be seen since. It wasn't beautiful, but yet it was, it looked and felt excessive and brutally fast, even standing still. The doors were open, giving it the appearance of a raptor hovering in space before it attacks.
![](https://www.head-fi.org/attachments/1089655/)
I'd done some homework, recently it went up for auction but didn't reach the reserve of $800k, much less the house expected $1M+. Hey, money's tight and times are hard, that's too much to ask for an obscure hypercar. The issue is, it has the look and the power, but not the prestige. It was never some kid's wall poster and it never won a race, some guy had put up $2M ($3M in today's money) for Mercedes to build him a 265MPH rocket, and only a few car nerds who remembered a mid-90s issue of Popular Mechanics even know that it exists. Game, set, and match to the McLaren F1. Despite not being as fast, it won handily in the arena of public opinion, because this car got buried in the Arabian desert sands, with no one to drive and admire it. Very sad, truth be told, because it looks like it would have deserved some accolades. However, it's no great secret that Merc would build whatever a customer wanted, if you had the dough, and just because something is rare, or even unique, doesn't mean that it's extremely valuable. It ain't a McLaren, Koenigsegg, or even a Pagani.
![](https://www.head-fi.org/attachments/1089669/)
So, it isn't a big investment car, and that means it had better be an awesome thing to drive. But, there's a major problem with that... I didn't fit.
![Eek! :xf_eek: :xf_eek:](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)
Sure, I was able to shoehorn myself into the tiny seat (it's RHD w/ shifter on the right), and I could press the far-too-close-together pedals, with my boots off and while contorted into a modified fetal position, but it was extremely uncomfortable. On top of that the spartan cockpit was claustrophobia-inducingly small, even if we did swap the seats I'm pretty sure there was no way to mount one far enough back to give me a proper sitting position. Also, visibility, what visibility? Forget not being able to see out the back, I'm used to that,
I could barely see out of the front and sides. The windshield was like a porthole on a ship, what in the hell were they thinking? Major bummer. :blink:
By that time the salesman could tell that I wasn't enthralled, likely he'd heard me grumbling unflattering remarks under my breath. "Dude, this would be such a great investment to put away", Brant chimed in. "Not really, Brant. Being `put away' is what killed this car, and that, combined with the horrible driving position, is why no one wants to pay $600k for it now. And that's not going to change over the next couple decades, in fact it'll only get worse. By that time a person will be lucky if they can fetch 6-figures for it at all. Unfortunately it's a curiosity for a small contortionist, and not much else." He looked like he was going to argue, of course he was, he was the salesman. "However", I cut in, "we have more important stuff to check out", and I smiled. "Let's go look at that damned Daytona." At that, he smiled too; more expensive car, more commission, the C1000 was immediately forgotten. Forgotten, yet again.
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