Tesla Test

Posted on June 2, 2014

Anyone who has ridden in or driven a Tesla understands what happened to the Tesla Equations after my test drive. I finally understood (wore) the Tesla Grin.

I will not go into details, words do not do it justice. Suffice it to say that Amy and I both got a chance to drive it, and it has permanently ruined her Honda Fit for her; she now feels like she sometimes needs to get out and help push it – just to get it through an intersection.

The next day I found myself in Columbus, walking into the Tesla gallery there. On his way out, I heard a fellow eloquently describe why he was not getting a Tesla. “80,000 dollars! No way it’s worth that much.”

Without pause, I ignored him. I had done my math. I had quantified my rationalizations. I was going to do this. I was unimpressed with the Apple store-like quality. I viewed no tablets, I gave no heed to the posters or architecture. I was on a mission. I was going to choose my paint and trim.

While examining one of the floor models, I heard a girl say “it’s like a big cell phone with wheels” which, honestly, is a pretty good way of describing the car if you account for the ludicrous extra portion of G-forces which give the word “accelerometer” a new meaning.

Once I had finished deciding on colors, I approached one of the staff who was busy talking to the same two teens. They were asking a question as I came up.

“Do people really come in here and just buy them?”

“Sometimes,” replied the Tesla representative.

“I’m ready,” I said.

I have to say, I’m actually quite happy with the overall procedure. The representative doesn’t directly sell the car, they act more as a facilitator between you and the Tesla website. She didn’t try to sell a bunch of options I would never need, and actually spoke to why I might not want some features. We spent a bit of time listening to a Bach cantata in both floor models so that I could figure out whether the premium sound was worth its cost.

P.S. I’m an audiophile.

Since my Tesla Equations had worked out in my favor, I could justify going whole-hog, but things like red brake calipers, spoilers, and Ohio-impractical 21-inch wheels were not on my agenda. I went home 2,500 USD poorer, 2,500% more trepidatious, and 2,500 times more excited.

I wanted to pretend at least to be rational and have a minimum of one evening between my impulse selections and confirming that impulse. I was [imagining myself to be] cool about it. I went home to sleep…

badly.