I think I belong to a new classification of people called “middle-class trash.” My job pays the bills and I can buy stuff now and then, but I don’t have a lot of extravagances in my life.  Therefore, when I’m faced with luxury, I have no idea what to do with it.

Case in point: during my trip last week, I waited over an hour in line at the car rental counter.  The lady felt sorry for me and gave me a free triple upgrade to a Cadillac.

I almost turned it down.  I didn’t know my way around Orlando, and I would have preferred a small car that zips in and out.  With a Cadillac, I thought I’d have to hire a first mate to help drive the thing.

“Ahoy, Cap’n!  There’s an SUV bearing down on us!  We’re on a collision course!”

“How long until we hit?”

“Two hours!”

“How long will it take to turn the steering wheel and avoid it?”

“Three hours!  All hands abandon ship.”

But then I realized I wouldn’t be the right demographic to drive a Cadillac for another 50 years, and by that time we’ll all have jetpacks.  So this might be my only chance to drive one.

The problem is, I couldn’t figure out which button made the seat go up.  I could adjust the back, but not the distance to the pedal.  By the second day I had it down cold--in fact, I’d just stroll up the car and the seat would jump out, do a triple somersault, and crouch patiently at my feet--but the first day I left the airport with my head barely poked over the dashboard.  I looked like something out of a Shirley Temple movie.  And from a distance, it probably looked as though no one was driving the thing at all.  Rumors spread quickly about the Ghost Cadillac zooming down highway 436.

The other luxury item that spooked me was the car’s satellite radio.  Great music, but no disc jockeys.  And the thing is, I hate disc jockeys. I should have loved a radio station that spared me all that inane banter.  But for some reason, I started muttering to myself as I drove along, making up for their absence:

“Thanks for tuning in to Satellite Radio.  We just heard Something Something, and we’ve got the new single from Something Something coming right up.  Don’t touch that dial.  And by the way, we can tell if you touch that dial.  We’re a satellite and we see everything.  For example, you may be interested in knowing your wife is currently sleeping with your business partner and your son is undergoing a gang initiation.  Oh, and Ghost Cadillac, you just slid into a family of five.”