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Still mobile, but for how much longer?
Upon receiving word that the owner of a particular SUV would not be returning to claim his vehicle, a waterfront parking-lot attendant named Steve McQueen takes possession of the man’s beautiful BMW. He takes on board some friends of recent vintage: several men and a woman, and off they go—with no particular destination in mind. McQueen is at the wheel. For most of his passengers, this is their first ride aboard a luxury vehicle. In fact, the only things on four wheels they’ve ever boarded were urine-scented transit vans. Their generous friend from the waterfront parking lot, who has never bothered to acquire even a learner’s license, seems oblivious of the possible consequences of his recklessness. As for his delirious passengers, they are too busy enjoying the free ride to think straight. They all take big swigs from the full bottle of Chairman’s Reserve they found under the driver’s seat and burst into song as they go flying down winding roads, miraculously avoiding precipices without a thought—all the while singing lustily: “The working class can kiss my ass, I’ve got the foreman’s job at last!” Something about that song reminds McQueen of a former government minister.
“Ah, yes,” he squeals, “Huntah! Huntah!”
They experience their first accident down a one-way street, thanks to McQueen’s new best friend who has suddenly taken to calling himself A.D.—short for assistant driver, even though he is anything but short. Every few minutes he issues directions to the man behind the wheel: “Turn here, swing here, no-no-no don’t stop!” Luckily, no other car was involved, only a stray dog that quite likely never felt the SUV go over its head.
More accidents follow. Before long the runaway BMW is a mess: busted windshield, smashed headlamps, ugly dents all over. And that’s not taking into account the damage to other road users. Somehow, the crazy joy riders manage to avoid the police. Finally, it is generally agreed that A. D. has become too much of a health hazard and must either shut up or leave. He refuses to budge. He turns on poor McQueen, calls him an ingrate who’ll never amount to anything much on his own. As the BMW goes whizzing round a hairpin bend, the passengers kick a wildly protesting A.D. out on the curb. Now McQueen is his own boss. Free to do as he pleases. His passengers don’t share his self-confidence but hey, they go along for the ride anyway. So what if by now their BMW seems ready for the scrap heap. Riding a busted Bimmer beats walking any day.
The accidents keep piling up. The vehicle is now barely able to crawl, what with broken parts, busted tires and a clanking exhaust pipe. Some of its occupants think about abandoning ship but already they have become addicted to the BMW’s soft leather interior. They decide to stick together. Then the penny drops. Someone discovers that McQueen has been receiving texts from A.D. They notice, too, that McQueen is becoming increasingly reckless at the wheel, sometimes even falling asleep—and that the bottle of Chairman’s Reserve is now empty. They are now in fear for their lives. Then one of them takes a call on his Blackberry. The caller is his latest squeeze, imported from Taiwan. She confirms his suspicions. She says A.D. is in total control of not only McQueen’s mind but also the BMW, busted up as it is. Moreover, she says, A.D. is in cahoots with a scrap-metal dealer in Vieux Fort who can hardly wait to get his greasy hands of the wrecked BMW. What to do?
McQueen is ordered to stop the vehicle at the next corner—or risk getting his ass kicked in the same way A.D. got his ass kicked. A drunken argument ensues, but not for long. After five minutes or so, the passengers agree that McQueen has become too dangerous to himself and his friends. They dump him like a beached whale somewhere in darkest Rodney Bay. Oh, and they pelt his six Digicels and three Limes into the ocean. Meanwhile, the word is that the BMW is undergoing secret repairs, even as the mutinous group has been telling all who ask that McQueen is in either Taiwan or Beijing shopping for cheap car parts.
If this whole story sounds a little farfetched, even crazy, dear reader, no need to seek help. I consider myself pretty sane, not to say, religious, yet cannot be sure that this whole story didn’t come to me in a dream. Which is not to say it’s not true down to the smallest detail. We’ll just have to keep watch on the way things develop over the next week or so. For now, it will serve us well to remember that God moves in mysterious ways.
The trouble is, so does Steve McQueen!
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Good this the article states that you consider yourself sane, because the rest of the world thinks the way you do. You are not only insane, but lost. Really, this so called Maryanna needs to get a life. The articles are getting increasingly pathetic day by day.
Wow! What a beautiful piece of writing!
Whoever you are, you and Jason Sifflet are a cut way above the rest!
I care little about politics, so I’d rather commend you on your writing style; SUPERB!!!
This article is funny but at the same time a very serious point is being made: that there are people in and out of government who are willing to destroy the country if need be to get what they want.I think this is the message the writer is putting across but in humorous way. Is it really that bad in St lucia? I hope not . If it is then we are in very deep shit
HUH,
HUH
Maryanna Williams’ writing style is so similar to that of Jason Sifflet. So can we speculate that they are one of the same?
Maryann I just wish you would STOP playing with my mind……stop beating around the bush. While I enjoy the DRAMA it came off as a novel in the making!!!
I think some readers need to stop launching personal attacks at the writer … it’s becoming SAD (to say the least). Instead, focus on the imagery in this piece. If in fact these events can,by some stretch of the imagination, be translated to the situation in St.. lucia, it might be headed for the scrap heap or the landfill. As a distant observer, Maryanna’s pieces don’t seem like the rambling of a lunatic, something is misguided about the direction the current administration is going. I highly doubt that a change in the government will soon remedy our plight but i do believe that there needs to be a rising up of the people of St. Lucia, brought on by a keen awareness of the dark times that are ahead if they do not raise their voices and claim that “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!” Let’s stop being political and instead protect our national sovereignty. Exhibit some national pride … just pretend to give a damn !
Just had to read this article one more time. Can’t the STAR submit it for some
regional journalism award?
Brilliant analogy!
These really cracked me up: “calling himself A.D.—short for assistant driver, even though he is anything but short” and “a scrap-metal dealer in Vieux Fort who can hardly wait to get his greasy hands of the wrecked BMW” REAL TALENT!
Have never seen such a brilliantly written piece before.That is why I strongly believe that Maryanna Williams is either Rick Wayne, or Miss V St Omer!
Jason Sifflet’s superb writing cannot be compared to this drivel - really sloppy and awkward.
comedy
Brilliant writing well done.
I must be missing something here…..Maryann entertain us with “lis-tra” pardon my patois and we call it BRILLIANT even want to “endorse” her for an award. When are we as people going to RISE up from medicrocity….. the writer is ro-ro driven and have ISSUES with her EGO!
If you want to call the BRILLIANT use of analogy in this article “listra”, then I guess that you need to urgently brush up on your English Literature skills.
Want to talk about mediocracy? Your English language skills are mediocre at best; in the 3 lines you wrote, there are 2 grammatical errors.I hardly use English anymore, yet, I would not make all the grammatical errors you have made.
GTFM…..as least you FULLY understood my point of view…..that is the bottom line. Please feel free to do my spell check for me ANYTIME.
Sabina, it is so obvious that you know nothing about literature.If you did you wouldn’t be critisizing the writer the way you did….SO SHUT UP!!! Are you too blind to see the making of another St Lucian laureate? lol.Creativity is borne out of fiction. (You dont have to be creative to tell the truth!) ,,,but sadly she is telling the truth.
For those of us who know a thing or two, well done Maryanna! I’ll be the first to buy your book….Sabina go do your research