This is an essay about debauchery. I did not learn any life lessons from the experiences mentioned below, but simply drank them in. There is no moral to this story, only hedonism.

My friend Sam has a friend who lets him drive his BMW Z8. Sam drives me around Kansas City in the Z8 because I am such an excellent and worthy friend. The car in question is a black, phallic, wasteful, overpriced and sinful convertible, complete with a red leather interior. I love it.

The Z8 bellows like a WWII fighter plane, looks like it belongs in the 1950s and has a V8 engine that shows a Teutonic show of force. All these aspects make it a perfect car for me, a car-loving German who wishes cars would revive to the styling of bygone eras.

As I mentioned before, this car is sinful. It has exposed the aspects of my character I previously had not known. Specifically, it has shown me that I am a sinful person. Although I am not Catholic, I know of the religion’s most reprehensible vices. They have come in handy in categorizing my various evils.

Lust

When I’m in the Z8, I’m a different person. I look at myself in the side-view mirror with my hair blowing back and I know I would sleep with myself on that given night.

Sometimes I think it might be the car I want to sleep with because I find myself dressing up whenever I know I will ride in it. It’s like I feel the car judging whether I am worthy to sit on its red leather. Dressing up is simply a precautionary measure, however, because I am excessively handsome, clothed or not.

Gluttony

The EPA gave the Z8 a rating of 15 mpg. Simply put, this car drinks like a German. Yet I don’t care how many penguins it kills or how many children’s lungs it blackens because it’s all worth it in my opinion. The thrills I get from this car are far more gratifying than any experience I’ve had stumbling around in nature. It could be said that the Z8 quickens the movement from fossil fuels by burning them up, but I digress; this is an essay about sins, not virtues.

Greed

As previously mentioned, this car is overpriced. The $128,000 it takes to buy the car could feed thousands of starving children. Or you could buy a house. If you buy this car, you do so with the knowledge that it is a colossal waste.

This car will also depreciate faster than former President Bush’s popularity. The Kelley Blue Book values a 2000 Z8 in excellent condition at $65,000, which is less than half the original price. All in all, I think it’s entirely worth it.

Sloth

When I ride in the Z8, I want to ride in it everywhere. I have imagined a world where everyone drives Z8s and never has to get out of them. Everything we would need would be in a drive-thru format. Our world would be shaped by our laziness, and it would be perfect. But these are simply idle daydreams, for not everyone can afford a Z8. Nor does everyone have such good friends who take them out in them (see Pride).

Wrath

Americans like to think they make fast cars. However, when compared to the Z8’s German muscle, American cars can’t keep up. Let me recount one of the many street racing stories I have accrued while riding in the Z8.

At a stoplight we pulled up next to a Camaro SS, a reasonable opponent for the Z8. I could tell it had been souped up from the steady thumping of its exhaust. The driver of the Camaro revved his engine and Sam revved his in turn, and everyone involved knew the race was on.

When the streetlight turned green, both cars screeched their tires and sped off. When the Z8 accelerates, it feels like angels are lifting up my stomach and butt at the same time. In a comfortable, not creepy, way. The Z8’s top was down, so the sound of the wind was deafening. Lights became lines, like we were going into hyperspace. By time we reached 90, the Camaro was a shameful number of car lengths behind us. The German part of me swelled with pride and I patted the Z8’s dashboard. Ah, this sin has become a two-for-one.

Pride

When Sam and I drive in the Z8, we know we are the top dogs of the road. The Z8 is faster than almost any car on the road. This gives us a “let them eat cake” mentality about almost everything. I wish everyone’s car can go as fast as the Z8. I wish everyone could look as good as I do in the Z8. I wish everyone could be as self-assured as I am in the Z8. Sadly, the Z8 only seats two.

Envy

I drive a 1993 Honda Accord. Its air conditioning is broken, its wheels are out of alignment, its paint is coming off, and I can’t shake the notion that there’s a carbon monoxide leak in the cabin. I don’t feel ashamed to have this car, but when I see a sports car I’d rather be in, I feel a rush of envy. Sometimes I’m able to convince myself that sports cars are a waste, but such solace is only short-lived because I’ve been in the Z8. I know the sins I experienced with it will never be forgiven, nor do I want them to be.