Engine start

 I finally bought myself a car yesterday. I had brought a friend who would help me ask the tough questions (straight & car-minded (though "car-minded" makes the "straight" epithet almost unnecessary, but I add it anyway, since it would otherwise mean that I agree with stereotypes about sexualities)). Otherwise the conversation with the seller could have gone like this.

"Good day, sir, how do you do?"
"Hi! How may I help you?"
"Well, I was looking at this car here. Is there anything specific that separates it from other cars?"
"Why yes! It is the best of its kind!"
"Really? That's great! Would you happen to know where I can find matching gloves for the car?"
"Matching gloves?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to be driving it looking like a douche with unmatching gloves, you see..."
"This is the 21st century, sir. People don't generally wear gloves any more when they go driving."
"Really? I had no idea. Well, that saves me a bit of cash too."
"Can you tell me how heavy the car is. See, I am worried a bit about the riots and I wouldn't want the rioters to get back problems when lifting up my car..."
"Err, well, it's a pretty light car, this one."
"Good! Perhaps I can also put on a note on each side of the car that explains how one should lift properly, from the knees, not the back..."
"Anything else you'd want to know?"
"Well, I'm not saying I would use this feature of the car, but if I were to use the car as a car bomb, do you think I could get some of my money back for some parts of the car that are still intact?"
"I guess..."
"I mean, of course I'd wipe the blood and guts off the pieces."
"I notice that the colour of the car is black. Can this be driven by white boys such as myself?"
"Naturally, the car is not racist, sir."
"But do you think black boys will now come up to me and attempt to seduce me?"
"The chances of this happening are slim, sir, the car is painfully un-cool, so the most attractive things you would attract with it are flies squashed against the windshield."
"Oh, more good news then. I wouldn't want to get myself a pimp-mobile, you know."
"Pimps don't drive Volkswagen Polos, sir."
"Don't give me all that technical mumbo-jumbo, I don't even know what a Volshwagapolos is! Is that part of the engine?"
"That's the name of the car, sir."
"Really? But I wanted to call it Boris. Do you think I can change its name?"
"I'm sure it wouldn't mind, sir." *sighs*
"But it is a boy, right? I'm never sure with cars. I mean, I don't want to drive a girl-car."
"Well, in that case it's a boy, yes."
"That's a relief... You know what? I think I'll take it."
"You don't want to do a test drive?"
"Nah, I wouldn't want to wake it just now."
"... Okay then..."