Redefining Luxury In San Francisco

Normally, I'm not one to boast about my latest-and-greatest, so what I'm about to say may surprise you...
(Drum roll, please.)
I am now, and have been for some time, the proud -proud- owner of a luxury automobile.
You read that correctly. Luxury.
I know what you're going to say...
"Luxury automobile? You can't afford a luxury automobile."
You're right: I can't. Not now; maybe never. That I can't afford one doesn't mean I don't have one.
Just so we understand each other: I'm not talking about your run-of-the-mill, namby-pamby, 'hey girls, check me out' luxury automobile. I'm talking about something completely different. Allow me to illustrate:
Most luxury automobiles, rouse feelings of inadequacy in others. Mine does not.
When parked, most luxury automobiles attract gawkers. Mine does not.
When handing the keys to a valet, a luxury car owner might say, "scratch it, I cut you. Dent it, I keel you". I will never say that.
If I see bird shit falling, I don't dive on my hood.
Unlike most luxury automobiles, mine does nothing to compensate for my tiny penis, or my receding hairline.
In a drag race, a 1989 Toyota Tercel would blow the doors off my luxury automobile.
I repeat: It does nothing to compensate for my tiny penis (That's false advertising anyway. Next time you go to a Mercedes dealership, ask the dealer, "can I rub my penis against it?" Spoiler: they won't let you. That's because they don't want you to know until after you've paid 60k that it doesn't actually work. Then, when you try to return the car, they won't let you. Why? You rubbed your penis on it, that's why. Classic scam).
With all this talk of "doesn't", you're probably wondering what my luxury automobile "does" have. I'll tell you.
But I still haven't finished the doesn't's.
My luxury automobile doesn't have leather seats. This is not for any political reason, but because the manufacturer doesn't offer it.
My luxury automobile doesn't have AC. Another feature not offered,
As of February, my luxury automobile no longer has "heat"; which has nothing to do with the manufacturer, per se.
My luxury automobile doesn't have carpet. Instead, it has a synthetic ploymer called plastic (fact: carpet comes from baby hair).
The key doesn't work on the passenger side. This is a sort of bonus feature.
In the 10 years I've owned my luxury automobile, I've installed 3 stereo systems. Aesthetes deemed each not luxurious enough for my luxury automobile. Subsequently, each was removed.
Now let's discuss what my luxury automobile does have:
My luxury automobile does have a massive dent on the passenger side. I added this feature myself, a few years ago. Around '03, I decided to have some Mexican guys drill holes into the dent. When they finished that, I had them primer over it. Big, primered dent with a bunch'a holes in it. Luxury.
I had long-term ambiance enhancement installed on the interior. Over the last decade, all the lights on the dashboard slowly dimmed. One sexy night, they died.
"Sexy + Luxury = Suxury."
Driving my luxury automobile in extreme hot or cold makes me feel rugged. In the summer, when everyone else is driving "comfortably" with the AC "on", I'm peeling my sweaty back from vinyl seats. Should I mention buttsweat? No? I got that too. If it's more than an hour of summer driving, I need a full change of clothes. Luxury.
Reading this over, I realize there's not much about my luxury automobile that's luxurious. I ask you to consider this one last feature: bumper-to-bumper "don't give a shit". If you're not familiar with this rather extensive feature, here's how it works:

Wash my car? Don't give a shit.
Scratch my car? Don't give a shit.
Dent: "
Break into my car (what're you gonna steal, an apple core?) Don't give a shit.
Hit my car? You think I'm gonna fix that bumper? Give me money (Don't give a shit).
I can go all day, but that's the gist of it.

"In this city, an automobile you don't give a shit about is a luxury automobile." (Jello Biafra)