Like the girl at Reception with the cute Southern accent, American cars are exotic. But like discovering that your new American friend votes for Trump so too does driving your American dream car lead to feelings of bitter disappointment.
Simply, the near new Chevrolet Suburban we hired for this Vegas trip can be described in one word; horrible.
While this truck looks sensational in its sinister gloss black, pumped guards and deep spoiler, it is by any subjective standard truly horrible.
The huge panel gaps were complimented by fragile plastic fittings. While unbelievably massive poor packaging leads to passengers feeling cramped. The big V8 motor drinks like a sailor on shore leave yet struggles to find sufficient grunt to move the behemoth. The deep chin spoiler looks great but gives this truck the off road clearance of a VW Golf. The suspension achieves the near impossible – a harsh ride and non-existent dampening. Lotus-like across freeway expansion gaps, the big Chev handles tight corners with the precision of the Costa Concordia
So they mustn’t sell many? Er, yes. Like Trump, the big Chev is hugely popular in the land of the free. They, like the ute twin the Silverado, are everywhere!
Like American girls with cute accents, I love American cars despite their flaws … but I don’t want to live with cute Americans or their cars. Along with nutty Republicans, guns, super-sized cola drinks and sickly sweet manners some things in America are, frankly, horrible. The Chevrolet Suburban is without doubt one of these things.