By on January 4, 2015

2015_hyundai_genesis_38_awd_2

“Hey, baby, it’s me.” Ugh, I hated it when they started the calls off that way. Especially when it’s from a number that I don’t recognize. A Texas number, at that. I hadn’t been in Texas in close to a year. Of course, in this day and age, that meant nothing.

“Hey, what’s up?” Non-committal, no inflection in my voice. Could have been anybody on the other end.

“I’m in trouble, honey. I did something stupid.”

Okay, that narrowed it down a bit. Of all the women I’ve been involved with in the past 12 months, only…two of them are likely to have done something stupid enough to be calling ME, of all people. I’m normally the cause of trouble, not the solution.

“What did you do?”

“I got pulled over…my plates were expired.” Okay, that narrowed it down to one. Elyse. Twenty-five years old. Playboy-quality body. Likely to do something stupid. Too broke to be able to afford to renew her registration.

“Okay-so did you get a ticket or something?” Elyse was worth a call to a Western Union for a hundred bucks or so. She was an extremely willing partner in the bedroom, and more importantly, extremely willing to be discreet about it. I’m a professional. I have a reputation to uphold. It wouldn’t do for my colleagues to see me hanging around with a not-so-recovering junkie.

“Well, yeah, kinda. I’m in jail. They cuffed me and took me to county.” Christ. Today just got a lot more complicated.

“Why would they arrest you for expired plates?”

“Baby, I don’t have a lot of time to explain this. My license was suspended, too.”

I learned something in my youth that has been infinitely valuable to me as I’ve aged. There are people that, no matter what the situation, no matter what the story they tell you, they simply can’t tell you the truth. When you deal with one of these people, it’s always safest to assume he or she is lying to you. You’ll be right more often than not. Elyse was lying about something. She was always lying about something.

“Are you in Texas?” Elyse lived in Augusta, Georgia, but she was just as likely to have gotten in her eight-year-old Subaru Impreza and gone to some effing hippie music festival with one of her effing drug dealing male “friends” who were always more than willing to give her a free high in exchange for the opportunity to take advantage of her.

“No, baby, the jail phones go through some exchange or something. I’m in Augusta. Baby, I need you to come bail me out. I’m scared, baby.”

A friend of a friend once described me in this way: “If you can’t do anything for Ryan, he has no time for you.” I used to say that, unfortunately, it was true. Now, I freely admit there’s nothing unfortunate about it. Successful people know this secret-don’t waste time on people who can’t do anything for you. And I’m nothing if not successful.

Elyse was definitely somebody who could and had done something for me. I met her in Nashville at a karaoke bar. I had been there as part of a company retreat. She had been there just because that’s what young women without careers and prospects do—they take their last fifty-eight dollars and they get in their cars and go to party on Broadway. Cameron Diaz wished she had looked like Elyse when she was younger. Elyse was slender, nearly waifish, with silver-blue eyes and fine blonde hair that brushed her pale-skinned shoulders. Her strapless dress couldn’t have cost more than fifteen dollars, but she made it look spectacular.

She also had a wicked opiate addiction. Her sense of smell was virtually gone because, in her words, “I’ve put so much shit up my nose that I’ve fried it.” When I woke up next to her for the first time that next morning in Tennessee, the make-up was gone and the effects of the drugs were shockingly visible-the hair that had looked fine and wispy under the lights of the club was now obviously thinning and damaged. Her skin was nearly translucent. She slept and slept all day while I was in meetings, and was still asleep when I returned to my room. I let her stay another night, let her charge room service to my bill, and when I left the next morning, I was sad to let her go her own way. She needed some stability in her life. I needed some youth and excitement—so what if it was a classic mid-life crisis? It was a perfect match.

Well, perfect, except for that she was always in some sort of trouble. “Baby, I got kicked out of my apartment.” “Baby, I blew a tire.” Any sentence that started with “Baby” invariably cost me some money. In the minds of young, poor people, making a hundred grand a year made me a billionaire. In Elyse’s mind, in particular, any problem she had could be solved by my money. In my mind, she had become an increasingly expensive problem, herself.

“Okay, Elyse. I’m connecting through Atlanta today on my way to Oklahoma City. I’ll rent a car at ATL and come get you.”

“Baby, please hurry. I don’t want to spend the night here. I…I can’t spend the night here. I have a bond hearing at 2:30. Please. Hurry.”

Ryan. Ryan. Don’t do this. This isn’t your problem. You’ve got meetings to go to. Business to conduct. “I will be there in five hours. Hang in there.”

One hour later, I found myself looking through a row of rental cars in Atlanta, looking for something decent among the assortment of mid-size sedans. Altima, Impala, Compass…aha. Hyundai Genesis. 3.8 liter V6. Big. 311 horsepower. Luxurious…kinda. I opened the door, grabbed the key, and set off for Augusta.

It’s a terrible thing, knowing that someone you care about is in trouble. Someone small, fragile, and afraid. And despite having every reason in the world to not care about a drug-riddled, unemployed, borderline-crazy girl, I did care about her. Far too much for my own good.

I looked at the clock on the Genesis’ display. Two hours to go, with about two and half hours to spare. No need to drive anything above the speed limit, and yet I was doing nearly ninety. The throaty tone of the Korean V-6 rumbled down the road, giving a distinct feeling of decisiveness and confidence. I was anything but.

Upon my arrival in the parking lot of the Augusta Detention Center, I was greeted by Elyse’s…I don’t know…roommate?

“Hey, man, Elyse said you’d be comin’.” Randall was a caricature of a man. He was at least fifty years old, but the combination of excessive alcohol, smoking of all kinds, and sun conspired to make him look even older. He wore a filthy Land Rover cap, a blue camp shirt, yellow shorts, and leather sandals. As though he did it on cue, he pulled a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it. “Pleasure to meet you, brother. She talks ’bout you an awful lot.”

Standing there in my Ted Baker-from-head-to-toe ensemble, including a chocolate brown slim fit suit and blue suede wingtips, we couldn’t have looked more oddly juxtaposed. Me, the trendy exec. He, the odd drifter. And both of us, I suspected, interested in the same woman.

“Yeah, likewise.” Which was hilarious, because Elyse had been very careful to tell me as little as possible about her roommate, other than his house was paid off due to some relative’s untimely demise and his subsequent inheritance. Now I knew why. He was a creepy old weirdo who was likely trying to get in her pants—if he hadn’t already. Effing shudder. “So tell me what’s going on here.”

“Brother, our girl’s in a lot of trouble.” Randall puffed away on his cigarette with remarkable speed. “When she got pulled over, she had expired tags, an expired license…and well, she asked me not to tell you this, but she had a bench warrant out, too.”

“Christ. What for?” Drug related, I guessed.

“Shoplifting.”

“Shoplifting?” I asked, incredulously. “What the hell did she shoplift?”

“I don’t know, man. Hey, you play tennis?” Randall looked me up and down, then flicked his cigarette down a sewage drain.

“Tennis…what?”

“Those looked like some fancy shoes. Figured you must play tennis.”

Seriously. What. The. Hell.

“No, I don’t play tennis. Where do we need to go? I have to get this over with. I have a meeting to get to.”

Turned out that we needed to go into the detention center itself. Her bond hearing was scheduled to take place in twenty minutes. I followed Randall inside into the grey, imposing antechamber.

“Hey!” A voice belonging to a black woman called out from behind security glass as we walked in. “I know you!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I think you’re mistaken,” I replied. “I’ve never been here before.”

“No, not you. HIM,” she said as she pointed to Randall. “You got another girlfriend in here?”

“Oh, no, this one ain’t my girlfriend,” he coughed and spoke simultaneously. “She’s just a friend I’m tryin’ to help out.”

“You see,” he said as he turned to me, “I know the lexicon of the law pretty good.”

Only my desire to not see Elyse rot in jail kept me from leaving at that very moment. The picture was getting clearer and clearer with each passing moment. Undoubtedly, this “Randall” had a history of “helping out” troubled young women, probably offering his gift of free housing and weed to anyone desperate enough to accept it.

“You know what, Randall? I really appreciate everything you’ve done here so far today. You go home. I’ve got it from here.” I gave him my most intimidating boardroom stare. Time to stop screwing around.

“You sure, man? I really don’t mind. She’s a good friend, you know.”

“Totally sure. You’ve done enough. In fact, I’ll be taking Elyse with me when I get her out tonight.” I would? Had I totally lost my mind? Where was I going to be taking her?

“All right, brother. You seem like a decent guy, what with flying up here at the last minute and everything. She needs more friends like you, not like all the guys around here trying to screw her.” He lit up another cigarette. “I mean, hell, I don’t blame ’em. If I were her age, I’d be trying to screw her, too.”

“Well, luckily, I don’t really have to try.” I smiled at him in the way that girls who have just won the Prom Queen crown smile at the other girls who have just lost. “Go home, Randall.”

With that, I turned my back to him, walked into the judge’s courtroom, and closed the door behind me.

And there she was. Seated on a bench in an orange jumpsuit that was at least three sizes too big, causing it to slide off her shoulder and reveal her bra strap—apparently they didn’t arrest many Size Zeroes. No hair and makeup could save her today. She looked…well, she looked strung out. I quickly sat in the back of the room before she could see me, feeling embarrassed that I had seen her this way. Somehow, it made her seem incredibly fragile. Scared. In that moment, I had a strong, primal urge to take care of her.

The judge, a graying, middle-aged man with a military hairstyle and an air of seriousness, took his seat behind the bench. The bailiff quickly ran down the afternoon’s docket—Elyse’s case would be heard last. As the judge addressed each of the proceeding cases, I began to have a great deal of hope that I would be able to get Elyse out of there immediately—each individual, many of them having committed crimes which seemed much more serious than hers, was released on his or her own recognizance.

Finally, it was her turn to go before the judge. God, she looked so tiny. I mean, I knew she was 5′ 3″, maybe 5′ 4″, and 105 pounds at best, but standing there in that oversized prison outfit, she looked like a child.

Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut like one.

“Ma’am,” he began, “the charges against you are driving in excess of ten miles per hour over the speed limit, operating a motor vehicle with a suspended license, and operating a motor vehicle with lapsed registration. You are also charged with shoplifting due to a…”

She sharply interrupted. “I have already faced the shoplifting charge…”

“Ma’am, you will have your turn to speak. This is not it.” Great, Elyse. Way to piss off the judge before we even get started. “You have displayed a stunning lack of judgement. You were speeding while driving illegally. You failed to complete the rehabilitation program you were offered for your shoplifting conviction, which is why there was a warrant out for your arrest.”

“I couldn’t get off of work to go to the program and…” My mind was screaming at her to shut up. SHUT UP, Elyse.

“Ma’am, if you will not be silent, I will have you held in contempt of court. Do you understand?”

“I’m just trying to tell you why all this stuff happened to me.”

The judge looked both disgusted and bemused as her peered over his glasses at her. “Ms. Mills, nothing has happened to you. You have happened to yourself. Time and time again, it looks like, according to your record.” He leafed through page after page of paper in front of him. “Yet, amazingly, the only thing you’ve ever been actually convicted of is a DUI and this shoplifting charge. I’d like to congratulate your parents on having hired some of the best criminal defense lawyers the state has to offer.” Parents? Elyse had rich parents? That was the first I’d heard of it.

He looked up from the stack up papers. “I’m inclined to hold you without bond, as I have every right to do considering your failure to appear for rehabilitation.” Fuck it, this had been a waste of my time.

“However,” he said, “I am willing to release you on your own recognizance and a bond of $2,130.” Ugh. “Your court date and terms of your bond will be discussed when you are able to post it.”

She was ushered out of the courtroom back to, well, wherever they take people at county jail. Having never been to jail myself, I had no idea where they had taken her, but I could only fear the worst.

Fear. Why the hell did I fear ANYTHING where this girl was concerned? Why was any of this my problem? The poor girl was under the illusion that just because I told her I loved her when I had been drunk one night that I’d really meant it. This caused more problems than I could count. We used to have this reckless, sexually adventurous …relationship? I suppose you could have called it that.

Yeah…the “L” word had changed ALL of that. Don’t get me wrong—she still had that Playboy bunny body I mentioned earlier, and it was still nothing short of miraculous they way that she used it. But now it had to be respectful. She didn’t even like to use the F word anymore. She talked about making love, about going on romantic trips together. She wanted me to buy her a ring, for Christ’s sake. Not an engagement ring—she wasn’t THAT delusional. Just something so that “guys will know I’m taken.” She wanted sapphires to match her eyes. Her eyes were special, I admit. Somehow, all the dope and the sex with randoms on barstools long after last call hadn’t robbed her eyes of their incandescent glow.

I walked out of the courtroom and up to the clerk’s counter.

“Excuse me,” I said to the woman behind the glass. She looked up at me with the typical lack of urgency I had always associated with government workers.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“I’d like to pay Ms. Mills’ bail, please.”

“You need to contact a bail bondsman and pay 10% to him,” she said as though she were reading a script.

“You misunderstand me, ma’am. I intend to pay the full bond.” I took out my checkbook from my jacket pocket. “To whom shall I make it out?”

“Are you for real?” she asked, incredulousy. “That’s over two thousand dollars.”

“I understand. To whom shall I make it out?”

Apparently just paying bail doesn’t just get somebody out of jail. She had to go in front of the judge again. In seven hours. And then get “processed,” whatever the hell that meant. So much for making my meeting.

Armed with nothing by my laptop and a mi-fi card, I sat in the waiting room outside the detention center and occupied my time by sending e-mails, writing proposals…anything other than facing the truth as to why I was there. Why I had driven hundreds of miles, spent thousands of dollars, and nearly a dozen hours to rescue this girl.

And then I saw her. The door buzzed, and she ran into my arms, nearly knocking me over even though I was twice her size.

“Baby. Baby. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that you had to see me like this. I can’t believe you came. I can’t believe you came.” She half-sobbed, half-laughed, and collapsed against me. “I can’t believe you came.”

“Come on, ” I said as I stroked her hair. “We’re going.”

“Going?” she asked. “Going where?”

“Anywhere but here.”

I led her outside, head on my shoulder, to the Genesis. “Baby, is this your car? It’s nice.”

“Is it?” I said. “It’s a rental.”

“I don’t care,” she cooed. “I’m with you. That’s all that matters.”

Surprisingly, I felt the same way.

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144 Comments on “Sunday Stories: The Genesis of Something New...”


  • avatar
    Lie2me

    Ok, this is what happens when you let the small head do the thinking, stop it

  • avatar
    PeteRR

    I was going to reply with, “been there, done that”, but I’ve never gone that far for a girl. One of the hardest things to learn how to do, is to not put on your cape and tights to rush out to save the damsel in distress. No matter how sweet the pussy is.

    • 0 avatar
      April

      Such language. Such objectification of women.

      I didn’t know this was the online version of Hustler magazine.

      • 0 avatar
        Lie2me

        I’ll just bet there are a lot of “same sex” versions of this story as well

      • 0 avatar
        Jeff Weimer

        Such huffy prissiness.

        Lighten up, Francis.

      • 0 avatar
        DenverMike

        TTAC is like a buddy’s muffler shop, after hours. We show up around 6, crack wise and a few beers. He works on his derby cars and the talk is exactly what you’d expect.

        Women folk are always welcome, but know better than to be offended. They know where they can take that!

        There’s safe places, 100% free of sexism for women to hang out and talk about their kids, menstrawl cycles, pregnancy, giving birth and stuff. But they’d rather hang out at the garage with the guys for some reason.

        • 0 avatar
          Lie2me

          Um, April used to be “one of the guys” :D

          • 0 avatar
            DenverMike

            And now neither here nor there.

          • 0 avatar
            April

            I was always a woman. I just didn’t know until somewhere around the age of 14. It just took a few years to do something about it (fix the exterior).

            But yes, I worked in an environment where men acted their true selves. Where when the women were out of hearing range they could be base and cruel and evil against women. But deep down we all know there is no real need to be that way.

            P.S. This isn’t about being “PC”. It is about being a decent human being.

          • 0 avatar
            Lie2me

            “I was always a woman. I just didn’t know until somewhere around the age of 14”

            Got your first period then, huh?

          • 0 avatar
            April

            ?

          • 0 avatar
            OneAlpha

            “I was always a woman. I just didn’t know until somewhere around the age of 14. It just took a few years to do something about it (fix the exterior).”

            What a wondrous age we live in.

            Mutilating the case because a few corrupted lines of code in the CPU.

          • 0 avatar
            oldwheelsnewyork

            So let me get this straight. Not only do you insult an openly trans woman, but you tell her that she (and anyone else who calls out sexist comments) should deal with it, because “that’s what guys do,” and you then tell her she mutilated herself. That’s not funny chauvinistic Ricky Bobby-type humor. That’s degrading, misogynistic, aggressive harassment, and if any one of you did that in the workplace, you would be sued. April, I’m sorry you have to deal with these dorks. And I applaud you for being out as trans in the automotive community. These folks don’t deserve your wise commentary and honesty.

            Boys, why don’t you ask your wives or daughters if they think attacking a woman’s identity in this manner is ok? See what they say and report back.

          • 0 avatar
            Lie2me

            Finally! You hung around here all day waiting for that one line to justify an eruption of your misplaced outrage. Here’s your Jezebel brownie point. I think someone just told a sexist joke over on Jalopnik, if you hurry you can let them have it before turning in for the night

            If you ever figure out what makes the wheels on the bus go round and round, we’d love to have you back some time to contribute something other then indignation to the conversation

          • 0 avatar
            April

            @Lie2me

            I know how the wheels turn. Thankyouverymuch.

            P.S. Jezebel? Heavens no! My sensibilities are better served by Wonkette.

          • 0 avatar
            Lie2me

            My comment was directed at oldwheelsnewyork

            Sorry for the confusion

          • 0 avatar
            April

            @OneAlpha

            There is no corruption of my CPU. I just made some modifications to the case for better performance and ease of use.

            @oldwheelsnewyork

            Thank you for the support.

          • 0 avatar
            Lie2me

            “better performance and ease of use”

            Nothing beats design efficiency like the ability to pee standing up with your pants still on

          • 0 avatar
            April

            “Nothing beats design efficiency like the ability to pee standing up with your pants still on”

            Being on both sides of this issue I will concede your argument (especially when it comes to the typical Convenience Store restroom).

            :D

    • 0 avatar

      Having represented folks like this woman, trust me, it is a black hole. The record is long, mostly stupid crimes, related to the addiction somehow. Add to that the inability to finish “a program” for whatever reason, and you have a, as we call them in the system, Frequent Flier.

      My wife works in retail. The bogus return scam is common in her high end store. There’s a big button on the cash terminal called “LP” for loss prevention. It gets used a lot.

      The addict client is very easy usually to deal with, will yes you to death, promise to do whatever is required, and then won’t appear at the next hearing. They forget all about it till they are picked up the next time. That usually doesn’t take too long. This story is all day every day for working attorneys.

      I’ve seen families, more than once, refuse to bail out Junior or Missy just so they can get them to dry out a bit.

      I do hope you can afford to lose that bail money.

      • 0 avatar
        DenverMike

        I’d tell her if she’s gonna ride the system like that, stay in jail until they kick her out. My buddy’s been doing that for 20+ years. He got a DUI recently and with 15 warrants from 15 tickets. More than $100K in fines. Driving on a suspended mostly. Everyone else in the drunk tank had to post bail. He was kicked out at daybreak. No bail necessary. He’s not a money maker for the court. Like catch/release. He’s served a total of 12 day in jail his whole life.

  • avatar
    johnhowington

    better get checked for crotch surprise.

  • avatar
    White Shadow

    TTAC.

    ?

  • avatar
    -Nate

    Well written Jack ;

    I suppose many here have been there , I certainly was , albeit sans the drugs .

    Absolutely the most beautiful Woman I ever had and the sex was out of this world .

    My mistake was taking her to Vegas , that’s when those ‘hone calls began .
    Tough to walk away but you just gotta , there’s always another mark waiting to take your place .

    -Nate

  • avatar
    Mathias

    TIM-BER!

  • avatar
    mikey

    Excellent! story. I hope that TTAC returns to regular Sunday fiction.

  • avatar
    EAF

    So, petite blondes are your Kryptonite? Yeah, they’re mine as well!

    All women with opiate addictions are compulsive liars and master manipulators. I know more than a few.

    To raise cash addicts will first, find receipts that people throw away, out of trashcans, for example. Then, they will “shoplift” the listed item from the respective store. Lastly, they will “return” the stolen item, with receipt in tow. Now they have cash, the medium all serious dealers prefer.

    Back to cars. I love everything about the styling and looks of the Genesis. I agree, they sound awesome when you open them up. I have to make an effort to test drive one.

  • avatar

    “She needed some stability in her life. I needed some youth and excitement—so what if it was a classic mid-life crisis?”
    I resemble that remark.

  • avatar
    Pahaska

    Have Genesis Ultimate(awesome car). Lack blonde.

    • 0 avatar
      Lie2me

      See, if you had gotten the BMW you would have gotten the blond as well, it’s either in the sales contract or the warranty, I forget which now

      • 0 avatar
        krhodes1

        My BMW sales chickie is the hottest 26yo blond you could ever imagine. Named Brittany, no less. Going to visit her tomorrow to start discussing my 2-series order. Should be entertaining.

        • 0 avatar
          Lie2me

          “hottest 26yo blond you could ever imagine”

          Doesn’t cast a lot of shade for a Maine girl, eh?

        • 0 avatar
          319583076

          I’m *almost* sold on committing to a 228i. I kept building a white, no line, 228i with track handling package and 6MT as the only options. There’s a 228i no line, with those options and the valencia orange paint a few hundred miles away.

          I really like the orange paint, I just don’t know if I want to commit to it yet. Dunno what to do…

          • 0 avatar
            ajla

            A Valencia Orange 228i with a manual transmission, track handling package and nothing else is an awesome car and you should buy one immediately.

          • 0 avatar
            krhodes1

            That is pretty much what I started out wanting. But I have about talked myself into an M235i.

            You only live once, and you can’t take it with you! The difference in lease payments is only $175/mo, and I will be leasing this one. I want this car for a good time, not a long time.

            I sure wish I could get an M235i in Valencia Orange though. I’ll have to settle for Estoril Blue.

          • 0 avatar
            319583076

            Ah! The dilemma!

            I drove a 135is and the acceleration was the proverbial “crack-like” experience.

            I drive 25 miles to work one-way, Monday through Friday. I have several routes available, interstate, 2-lane highway, and some really decent 2-lanes 45mph to 50 mph. I’m tempted by the 235 because I’ve experienced the six and I know how awesome it is. Haven’t driven the turbo 4, but krhodes says it’s plenty quick. I currently drive a ’13 MX-5 and a ’96 XJ Cherokee. Dunno what is the best move.

            I would get rid of the Miata for the 2 and keep the XJ. I don’t think a 235x-drive is a stand-alone replacement for both cars. Plus, I like parking the XJ without worry. Commuting in the 2 has secure parking at both ends.

            Thoughts?

          • 0 avatar
            darkwing

            Terrible idea. Special order it with halogens instead.

          • 0 avatar
            krhodes1

            I really would be perfectly happy with the 228i. But BMW just won’t sell me one QUITE how I want it, which is with the Premium Package but without a sunroof. I can’t fit in one with a helmet on with a sunroof, and I will be at least autocrossing the car. Plus by the time you equip a 228i to where I want it, an M235i is only $3600 more at MSRP. And I can get the toys I want without the hole in the roof.

            In your case, I would keep the XJ, and just get a RWD 2-series. Much cheaper, and with the XJ in the stable you don’t need the 2 to be all-weather. Plus you can’t get a 2-series of either stripe with a stickshift AND AWD in the US.

      • 0 avatar
        April

        All this talk about BMW’s and blonds.

        Me being smitten with a brown haired girl with a Maxda6 (with a 6 speed manual transmission no less!) makes me feel a bit inferior.

        :)

  • avatar
    dwford

    Been there with a friend of mine. Can’t count how many times I heard “why is this happening to me?” or “I can’t believe they did this to me!” Took me awhile to wise up, trying to be a good friend. Finally realized that my help wasn’t helping, that each new crisis was an escalation above the last crisis, requiring more money and more time and energy to overcome.

    Nice picture of the Genesis, though. You managed to capture the dynamic lines while hiding the hideous grill and boring rear.

  • avatar
    shaker

    The story is too good to be entirely fictional; I believe that the ‘genesis’ is based (however loosely) in events.

    It’s precisely these sorts of “entanglements” that I’ve avoided all of my life – and I’m simultaneously richer and poorer as a result.

    So, nice car, eh? :-)

  • avatar

    A lot of lower-end cars are starting to look alike. Soul-less. They meet “specs” but they don’t do anything especially well. Hyundai offers a V8 in the Genesis, but not a V8 AWD. The 3.6-L AWD is more than enough for most people, but “more than enough” just isn’t exciting.

    That said, I’d take a Genesis AWD over an Acura TLX/ RLX.

    Interior space is excellent all around and the look is so upscale that if you passed someone who knew absolutely nothing about cars, they’d think you had an awesome ride.

    Many people don’t even know “Hyundai” isn’t Japanese. Kudos for Hyundai pushing their brand up market, but they need to offer products that border on ridiculous.

    Nissan isn’t “famous” for the Maxima or the Altima. They are famous for the GT-R.

    Hyundai needs to build something that makes people desperately want their products.

    • 0 avatar
      Lie2me

      Have you driven a Q70 with the V8 and AWD?

    • 0 avatar
      johnhowington

      some truth here, and some hogwash.

    • 0 avatar
      GranMarkeez

      Our Canadian friends do get the 2015 Genesis Sedan with the 5.0 liter and AWD.

      We here in the US should see the car late this year as a 2016 model. At least that is what I’m told.

    • 0 avatar
      MK

      I’d say they’ve done pretty well with people wanting their products, it’s the kind of image turnaround that GM would kill for.

      I saw a new Genesis V8 in front of my gym a few months ago and asked whose it was (it’s a very good looking car in person, lots of presence). Turns out its a guy who owns two separate dealerships, one is an Acura and the other is a Hyundai dealership.

      Two things surprised me in his conversation, one is that he had bought the Genesis outright (not a dealership vehicle) but he had also owned the Acura dealership first and when he was evaluating the purchase of the Hyundai dealership, he thought they were obscuring or covering up warranty and service costs but bought the dealership anyway.
      After owning it for a while he’s been pleasantly surprised that at least with his two businesses they have far fewer claims and warranty work from the Hyundais than the Acuras. I’m sure there’s lots of reasons for that but it came out unsolicited in just a general conversation about cars.

      The v8 genesis is a damned good looking car, if it had Lincoln on the grille….. Well Lincoln would have an attractive car on the market!

      Too bad this story is more about poon hunting, seeking arrangement types and overall bad decisionmaking than the car.

    • 0 avatar
      DeadWeight

      “A lot of lower-end cars are starting to look alike. Soul-less.”

      So are a lot of intermediate & high end vehicles.

      Malaise era 2.0 may be dawning.

  • avatar
    thx_zetec

    This article had just about nothing to do with cars.

    Great article though.

  • avatar

    For those of you who haven’t been around TTAC that long, “Sunday Story”=”Fiction.”

    Thanks for the positive feedback.

    • 0 avatar
      mikey

      @ Bark ,good fiction , needs to be believable , The reader needs to picture the scene in his mind. I saw the blond, and the well dressed business man. The stern judge ,excellent character development, in a short story.

      Oh yeah I’m the same old Mikey retired UAW , high school drop out, with terrible grammar ,and spelling. I do ,however enjoy reading., and figure I’d make a great literary critic.

  • avatar
    npaladin2000

    This has better be fiction, otherwise you’re not real bright (this is what happens when you think with the wrong head).

    On the other hand, maybe after puttering off into the sunset in the Genesis V6, she starts a rehab and recovery center for Kardashians, so no other rich party idiots need to go through what she’s been through, and have to tell people she was rescued by some idiot driving a V6 Genesis. :)

  • avatar
    Joss

    Do you think gene is the new 2nd owner 12K Cadillac/Lincoln?

    Any sign of gas masks or ligatures – aurevoir – she’ll end up at the coroner’s, another AEA stat.

  • avatar
    Redshift

    Good story. You had me until he pulled out the cheque book. Least believable part. I haven’t seen one of those in years.

    Otherwise, an entertaining morning read.

    • 0 avatar
      Crabspirits

      Apparently, you haven’t dealt with the so-called “uncaring government worker” under glass much.

      Perhaps by your version of the word “check”, I should rephrase that as American government worker.

      • 0 avatar
        -Nate

        There are _some_ of who really do give a rat’s patoot .

        I take great pride in helping folks who come in , ever when they’re in the wrong place or whatever .

        -Nate

  • avatar
    npaladin2000

    It’s the government. Probably the only industry further behind the tech curve than the auto industry. If he tried to use a credit card he’d probably have to ask for the carbons.

    • 0 avatar

      Correct. You can’t pay bail with a credit card. Or so I’m told.

      • 0 avatar
        LALoser

        A friend/co worker got busted for picking up a hooker that turned out to be a Sherriff’s Deputy. At the jail they only too check/cash or a bondsman’s paper or something, his bond was a $1,000.00, so he hit the ATM, his daily limit was $1,000.00…and it took out 5 or 7 dollars as user fee… I got a very excited call. But that was nothing to what is wife had to say…wow..

        • 0 avatar
          ajla

          I would think that if he was picking up a prostitute he would have had some cash on him already, so then he would have needed less than $1000 from the ATM.

          Or do the police confiscate all the money you had on hand in that situation?

      • 0 avatar
        Dirty Dingus McGee

        I’m not sure on the credit card, but I know cash will baffle some departments. About 8 years ago a friend got busted for DUI in a small (1/2 horse) town. Called me, bail was $900 and change. I left out at 10.30pm, drove 30 miles to the police station where he was. Female officer on duty had no idea how to handle someone paying “THAT MUCH” cash money as bail. Had to call someone to tell her what to do. Another officer showed up and commented that in his 18 years on that force, NOBODY had ever posted cash in that amount.

        • 0 avatar
          VolandoBajo

          On the other hand, a nameless county in N. FL refused to take a check for a speeding ticket prior to the court date, when delivered in person. Obviously, cash was easier to not have to account for.

          But the Sheriff, whom I had to meet in order to try to convince him he could dispense with cash one time, said “If I took your check, it might bounce.”

          My reply was “If I didn’t want to pay you and thought I could get away with not answering the ticket, why would I come here and give you a bad check, just to have two charges against me instead of just the one?”

          Years later, I forget if he finally saw the light of that reason, just thought I was too close to figuring out why he wanted the cash, or made me come back.

          But bounce a check to pay for a speeding ticket? WTF? Why bother? Either actually pay the fine, or get in the wind and take your chances. Don’t bury yourself further.

          But having once known what it was to be deeply into something other than a job or another person, I was never very much enticed by the supposed whatever combo of needy and beautiful.

          Though an intelligent tall blonde single mother was finally this stud’s downfall, of sorts. Changed my whole life around. The pull has lasted for a quarter of a century, and is as strong as the day we met.

          Two intelligent, stubborn people, used to getting their own way all the time…a great formula for a decade long emotional tug of war, but after it was over and we came to terms, it was happily ever after.

          The dangerous but beautiful ones, in my former life, had a limited shelf life at best. Once the “Baby, I need your help” stuff started, I was out of there like a shot.

          I can get in enough trouble on my own, or at least could in a younger day. I didn’t need a strung out chick with a body as her only visible asset trying to help me dig myself in deeper.

          And even if it was fiction, most good fiction, as this was, is based at least loosely on reality.

          Beware the needy user. There are only two ways out: immediate exit or painful decline.

          Just walk away and don’t look back. Or watch your back, and consider every favor you do a total loss, perhaps of more than you intended. A hard saying, but the truth.

    • 0 avatar
      APaGttH

      You want to see behind the curve in technology?

      Go take a long hard look at the back office operations of insurers or retailers.

      Frightening.

  • avatar
    gottacook

    Many years ago I had an experience that was similar in some ways, although it involved someone my own age (we were both 32 at the time) – it turned out she was a longtime alcoholic, and I let her AND her childhood friend (another alcoholic, a gay guy who slept on the couch while she shared my bed) stay with me in my 1-bedroom apartment for three months when they had no place to go. There were reasons to admire her besides her very shapely physique, to be sure, but I had to kick them out eventually. She of course also had a separate “personal life” during this time.

    Here’s why I think this story is more than a little reality-based: You know the Jack Nicholson character in Terms of Endearment, talking about his astronaut experience to Shirley MacLaine but at the same time referring to her own need to have an adventure? “You agreed to do it. You’re strapped in… and you’re in the hands of something bigger and more powerful than yourself. So why not just lay back and enjoy the ride?”

    It was like that for me, and I don’t have any regrets. I needed to be less naive about some things.

  • avatar
    sintekk

    Could’ve been worse. I had one of those who OD’d a year ago to this day — 1-4-2014.

  • avatar
    Redshift

    I’ll take your word for it. I hope to never find out my self.

  • avatar
    APaGttH

    I learned very early in life you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.

    Vote her off the island.

    Not your problem (unless there is more to this story we’re not told).

    The tribe has spoken.

    • 0 avatar
      kvndoom

      My period for this was late 2005 through mid-2007. Culminated in walking in on chick giving a(nother) dude a blow job. Really bad night.

      Even after that, it still took me a few months to completely walk away from that situation. Men are hard learners, no?

      Contrary to popular belief, that does NOT just happen in movies.

      • 0 avatar
        DubTee1480

        Except for walking in on the BJ (she was cheating on me with the guy she bought pills from) that was my same situation, even down to the time frame. I stuck around as long as I did because I’d grown attached to her daughter. When her daughter was taken away from her though that meant I no longer had to deal with her. I still see and talk to her daughter but have pretty much nothing to do with her anymore. Her step mom has custody of her daughter and still gives me updates and it is still the same cycle of destruction for her.

        • 0 avatar
          APaGttH

          I guess I’m lucky – I didn’t have to learn the lesson that hard.

          When I was 19 an in college a girl started hanging around in our group. She had a stroke for some reason when she was younger, a couple of kids, but she was, so it appeared, trying to make something of herself. Going to school, tuition covered by aid, etc. etc. etc.

          One day she walks into the school’s newspaper office where we were hanging out and announces she’s pregnant. We were all quite horrified for her but she was thrilled. THRILLED. She was so happy because with the third kid she would get even more state aid.

          At the time I was VERY Republican in my views so this goes without saying – it didn’t sit well with me, or most in my circle. She was banished.

          But I observed the lesson, you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. And so it goes – and I’ve seen it repeat through my life.

          I’m not heartless, I’ve helped those who seem committed to helping themselves – but human train wrecks? I have no time for anymore and regret the time I’ve wasted on them in the past.

  • avatar
    oldwheelsnewyork

    “Used to be one of the guys”? “Crotch surprise”?. Someone doesn’t like a racy story and you attack them? That’s abhorrent. Transphobic comments are simply awful and inappropriate. Best and brightest, my very female gearhead behind. Try curbing your sexism and transphobia.

    • 0 avatar
      LALoser

      I learned something from you today…”Transphobia”… I did not realize it existed. Serious.

    • 0 avatar
      DenverMike

      It was at a party and the conversation turned from sex to pooping out kids vaginally stories, which I thought were inappropriate for a new year’s eve gathering, and I was about to puke! I was gonna complain until I noticed I was the only guy in the room. So I complained anyways… and got myself kicked out. Out to the bonfire I went, with mixed company and my best friend, a hot transgender. But she love a good trans joke! Wanna hear one?

      • 0 avatar
        RHD

        Women are much, much more vulgar and raunchy than men, especially when there are no men around.
        But if a guy says anything the slight bit sexist, they will be “offended” and he will be criticized and punished mercilessly.

    • 0 avatar
      MK

      I’ve never heard of transphobia either, for that matter I was also unaware April is a tranny (and frankly don’t care either way, whether true out not).

      What precisely is -phobic with the factual statement ( assuming its true) that someone used to be a guy and now is not?

      For that matter what is sexist or transphobic about the term “crotch surprise” when used as a humorous euphemism for venereal disease?

      Getting butthurt is fine, but at least pick your battles.

      • 0 avatar
        oldwheelsnewyork

        What’s transphobic is calling someone the T-slur (tr***y). What’s transphobic is referring to that person as mutilating herself. What’s transphobic is saying someone who is a trans woman “used to be a guy”. Here’s a good resource to educate yourself further, cos honestly, I can tell you and others mean well and want to learn. http://www.glaad.org/reference/transgender

      • 0 avatar
        April

        @MK

        Sir (I use the term loosely) I am not a Tranny. No Trans person is.

        Trans folks tend not to be thin skinned or looking for a fight and I do not advocate violence but be advised you would more than likely get beaten to a bloody pulp if you called a Trans person that slur. There is that much justifiable rage against that cruel word.

        P.S. Do you refer to POC (People Of Color) you interact with the N-Word? I ask because calling a Trans person a Tranny is the equivalent.

        • 0 avatar
          Lie2me

          Tranny/transperson is a relatively new euphemism, this is a car site mostly for guys interested in cars, most of who have never met a transperson. Give ’em time to catch up

        • 0 avatar
          S2k Chris

          If one undergoes the male female process, what part of the body is used to build the giant chip on one’s shoulder?

        • 0 avatar
          darkwing

          Just FYI, threatening violence against people who disagree with you isn’t a sign of mental stability or social adjustment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you post here without doing it, usually pretty early on.

          • 0 avatar
            April

            It’s not a threat. It’s what happens when the bullied get sick and tired of being degraded and treated less than human.

            No mental instability or social maladjustment there (unless we are talking about the bully).

          • 0 avatar
            darkwing

            Obviously my under-developed cis-hetero-normative brain just can’t comprehend how you can encourage and call for violence while naming it something different. You’ll have to excuse my lack of enlightenment.

            For what it’s worth. Sts. Edith Stein and Maximilian Kolbe — to name but two of many others — would disagree with the “inevitability” you suppose. So would Fr. Mychal Judge, for that matter.

        • 0 avatar
          DenverMike

          @April – It’s the trans person that creates the violent situation, and no it’s not a legal, or otherwise “justification” for violence.

          If it’s your inner rage that’s ignited by a simple word, according to you, I’d say check your inner rage. That’s where the problem is.

          Today, “Tr*nny” is the slur word. Although it’s news to us. I missed the public service announcement (The More You Know).

          When it goes away, “Trans” may become the new slur. What’s in a name? At some point, you’re just looking for a fight.

          • 0 avatar
            April

            Ah, blame the victim for defending themselves. Typical SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) for a bully.

            FYI: As it is way too many Trans men and women have been murdered just because they have the audacity to exist. I know, how dare those uppity trans folks deciding enough is enough and to defend themselves.

            http://www.hrc.org/campaigns/transgender-day-remembrance

    • 0 avatar
      darkwing

      Perpetually aggrieved person is perpetually aggrieved. Yawn.

      • 0 avatar
        April

        Nope. More like defending oneself and calling out the bullies and haters.

        • 0 avatar
          Lie2me

          If you go around pushing people’s buttons just for the fun of it don’t be surprised if some of them push back. This is just the kind of thing you’re fighting, but now instigating. You and Lady oldwheels are not defending yourselves against bullies, you are flat out looking for a fight, big difference

          • 0 avatar
            April

            I didn’t start anything. You brought my biological history and another “gentleman” referred to me using a vile slur. I’m just defending myself.

          • 0 avatar
            Lie2me

            You called out a guy because his comment was an “objectification of women” The woman in the story was a skank who was using her body to get what she wanted from a man, she was objectifying herself. The commenter wisely suggested not failing for such a trap. You decided it was a perfect opportunity to get all offended by it.

            You were wrong

            Your “biological history” was made common knowledge by you a long time ago. I was educating that commenter who might not have understood your perspective on the matter. The truth is April, you were born “one of the guys” deal with it

          • 0 avatar
            oldwheelsnewyork

            Lie to me – I am a journalist and musician, and one of the people banned in 2012 for calling Bertel Schmidt out on his racism and sexism, and am glad to have played a small part in sowing the seeds of change on this site. Today I’m calling you and others out on your sexism and transphobia. I only returned to TTAC after JB & co took over, because they stated they would strive to make it a friendlier place, something they have kept their promise on. Your actions and the actions of others are foul, disturbing, and disappointing to say the least. But to say more: you are targeting and harassing women on this site and justifying it by saying “old boys club”. That is not acceptable. No one here, regardless of gender identity, deserves to be mocked and harassed in this manner. I like racy stories. But I don’t like people who act like arrogant, sexist, transphobic jerks, especially when they target trans women, who are subject to violent attacks and murder at a rate far exceeding the rest of the population,and who are also subject to victim-shaming, legal discrimination, and other awful things.

            In short: check yourselves. TTAC is lucky to have an openly trans person in the B&B. Stop harassing her.

          • 0 avatar
            Lie2me

            I like the way you cut and paste that rather tedious speech and parade it around even when it’s highly inappropriate. YOU are the bully here in search of a fight, good luck to you

      • 0 avatar
        slow kills

        I am glad that people are recognizing the April troll for what he is.

    • 0 avatar
      Lie2me

      @oldwheelsnewyork, just sign up today? Know anything about cars or do you spend all your time perusing the internet looking for nothing, and I do mean NOTHING to get all indignant about?

      Bet you’re a blast at parties

    • 0 avatar
      ajla

      I believe in the context of the comment and those that followed, “crotch surprise” was a reference to sexually transmitted diseases and not gender identity.

  • avatar
    kvndoom

    Damn that struck close to home. I’ve been there… and it cost me a lot more than 2 grand.

    You can’t save someone from themselves, and you sure can’t do it with money. This story might be fiction but I know exactly how it would end in the long run.

  • avatar

    There’s a lot of loneliness and sadness in this story. Let’s hope for the best…

  • avatar
    Gardiner Westbound

    Dear Penthouse Forum,

    I never thought this would happen to me, but….

  • avatar
    RHD

    Lost on the cutting room floor was the green-eyed female protagonist’s full moniker, , and thus why this story belongs on TTAC:
    She earned her nickname through her creative boudoir gymnastics:

    “Lotus Elyse”.

  • avatar
    Prado

    Just as amusing as this story, are the ads that show up for me in the top TTAC banner when reading it. So far I have gotten…Phoenix Bail Bonds ‘Low to no collateral Bail Bonds One Mile from Maricopa County Jail’…. and DWI & Criminal Defense – “Statewide Representation. Fight the Charge. Get Help Now.” I guess the ad engine is to stupid to know this is fiction.

  • avatar
    Eliyahu

    So you’ve learned your lesson now, and next time you’ll turn away from the expensive one, and choose the Chevy or Toyota at the rental counter??

  • avatar
    S2k Chris

    “105 lbs” “waifish” and “Playboy body” don’t work together. One is either 105lbs and waifish OR a buxom Playboy bunny. Not both.

  • avatar
    SCE to AUX

    Like some others here, I learned in high school that you can’t rescue drowning people; they only take you down with them.

    A friend of mine bailed out his son once, but not ever again. Unfortunately, the son’s lesson took a longer time to learn because his mother repeatedly bailed him out instead. Their cycle lasted a decade, but for some people it’s forever. Interestingly, the jails wouldn’t hold him very long because he’s a non-violent offender; overcrowded jails have to make room for the real baddies.

    I know the story is fiction (well-written, too), but such tales play out every day. We have enough friends and acquaintances in our lives who live like “Elyse”, that our kids understand we’ll not be too sympathetic if they fall into a pattern of bad choices. They always have our love, but not some unhealthy co-dependent thing.

    As for the Genesis: I’m a Hyundai fan, but the Genesis’ ultra-bland looks have never interested me. However, I really like that color.

    • 0 avatar
      319583076

      “He who knows not and knows not he knows not: he is a fool – shun him.
      He who knows not and knows he knows not: he is simple – teach him.
      He who knows and knows not he knows: he is asleep – wake him.
      He who knows and knows he knows: he is wise – follow him.

  • avatar
    05lgt

    Bark, thanks for the tragedy. I’m both pained and bemused picturing the slow sad realization of the titled “something new” mutually self destructive loving commitment. Rich family indeed! How many lives destroyed in the quest to slow her inevitable demise? I especially liked the … missing the term here, not exactly schadenfreude, not exactly irony … of the leads snotty demeanor during the handoff as he becomes what he belittles. Awesome short fiction again. I’m beginning to think y’all’s mother had something to do with the shared skill you and Jack share with us here. Whatever the source, congratulations and milli gratzi.

  • avatar
    -Nate

    Wait ~ What ? .

    How can anyone be offended by a HELLCAT ?! .

    I don’t like Hot Rods but it doesn’t _offend_ me ~ it’s just a car I’ll prolly never drive or own .

    -Nate

    • 0 avatar
      05lgt

      How can anyone not be offended by a HELLCAT? That’s part of its charm; brutish, snarling, devil may care offending blindly and uncaringly. It’s an effing HELLCAT! It doesn’t really care (although it knows) whether you’re more offended or tempted because it’s all swept up in the joy of being an effing HELLCAT!

  • avatar

    *wakes up, surprised to see 100+ comments on Sunday Story*

    *reads comments*

    *goes back to sleep, bitterly disappointed*

    • 0 avatar
      npaladin2000

      What’s disappointing is that those things aren’t even being caught by the insanely overzealous spam filter.

    • 0 avatar
      Crabspirits

      LOL.

      I enjoyed it. I was however, disappointed that the Hyundai was hanging by a thread. There in lies the challenge, to make a car-based story not boring or geeky while still being accessible to anybody.

      I was waiting for the colorful image of the Genesis leaving this guy in it’s dust at some gas station with a tearful “what the hell am I doing?” blonde at the helm. It would be found abandoned later after the tank ran dry, full of “litter”, and with a certain ballcap in the back seat.

    • 0 avatar
      rpn453

      *opens up TTAC after being away from the site a few days, enjoys Sunday Story*

      *surprised to see 100+ comments on Sunday Story*

      *reads comments*

      *wishes for an “ignore user” option*

  • avatar
    John R

    Wow. Well…thank you, author. Or I should say my girlfriend of over ten years thanks you.

    You just made her look like a million bucks in my eyes.

  • avatar
    -Nate

    If you actually like cars, trucks and Motos , I don’t care what sexual persuasion you are , let’s have some fun with engines and wheels .

    The best Hot Rod Machinist I know , is as Gay as they come , few Machinists are even passable mechanics in my experience , a very sad thing indeed .

    I wonder if maybe April could , like my Daughter In Law , drive the pants off most men ~ .

    They’re always talking big smack _before_ she gets behind the wheel or astride her Motocycle , not so much after wards .

    -Nate


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