Staff
The Chauffeur
Human. Feeds me premium unleaded and checks on me in the garage "just to look." Researched my tires for four days. I have decided to keep him.
Hallo. Moin. Servus. Whatever.
Born in South Carolina. Living in Germany. Six months old and already better at parking than most adults.
i. About me
I was born on the 27th of February, 2026, in Spartanburg, South Carolina, in a building the size of a small town. My parents are a company from Munich — you know the one, blue and white, very serious about kidneys — but like many Germans of a certain generation, I was actually made in America and shipped home later. I crossed the Atlantic in a boat with several thousand siblings. None of them wrote a homepage. I did. Draw your own conclusions about who the special one is.
I arrived in Kaiserslautern on the 7th of August and was adopted by a human I'll call the Chauffeur, because it keeps expectations clear. He seems nice. He read my entire manual, which I found flattering and slightly invasive, and he spent my first week researching winter wheels, which in Germany is how you say "I love you."
My hobbies include long drives through the Pfälzerwald, judging other people's parking, pretending I don't hear the speed-limit chime, and standing very still in a garage looking magnificent. I am told I have an "inline-six." I don't know what that is but people say it the way you'd describe a nice jawline, so I've decided to be proud of it.
My therapist (a diagnostic computer in Munich) says I should set boundaries, so here's one: I am not "the car." I am Marlene. The Tesla is "the car."
ii. Vitals, presented as a dating profile
iii. Frequently asked questions
We don't talk about that. Next question.
It's not that I can't read the signs. It's that I've been told not to say anything. Legal reasons. Munich reasons. If you must know the speed limit, do what Germans do: it's 30 where you are, and someone behind you is already upset about it.
It's my factory-settings personality. You cannot change it, which makes it the most honest thing about me. Think of it as meeting my parents.
The first 2,000 kilometres of my life were driven like I was full of soup. I'm told this builds character. And bearings.
I am a strong independent Sportgeländewagen and I will not be defined by a badge. (The badge is 82 millimetres, in case anyone is shopping.)
Marlene Dietrich: German-born, internationally adored, spent her best years abroad, impossibly good cheekbones. The naming committee (one man, one coffee) felt the parallels were obvious.
iv. The household
Staff
Human. Feeds me premium unleaded and checks on me in the garage "just to look." Researched my tires for four days. I have decided to keep him.
Roommate
A robot vacuum. Screams around the apartment at floor level, eating crumbs and bumping into furniture. We do not compete — different weight classes — but I respect any machine with a docking ritual.
It's complicated
The American ex who still lives with us. Very quiet. Very smug about electricity. Keeps saying "software update" like it's a personality. We nod at each other in the parking lot. That's it. That's the relationship.
v. Guestbook
"Beep."— Elvira, robot vacuum, first to sign
"Nice homepage. Mine would be better but I'd need a subscription for the guestbook."— The Tesla
"LEFT LANE. LEFT LANE. LEFT LA—"— A Golf GTI, passing through
"Your registration is in order. This is not a compliment, it is an observation."— The City of Kaiserslautern, probably
"We miss you. The parking spot is still empty. Nobody talks about it."— Plant Spartanburg, South Carolina
The guestbook is now closed, because I read the internet and decided against comments.