XTREME JUNK MAIL

So when I get home from work, there's this strange box waiting from me, with the name of a certain Xtreme sport utility vehicle I may or may not drive (but don't worry, it's electric).

I'm not expecting anything in the mail like, say, another SUV, so I'm immediately suspicious. What could it possibly be? A random piece of car innard, with a note scotch taped to it reading, "Sorry, but Earl and me forgot to put this in your car at the plant in Smyrna. Just stick it between the solenoid and the chrome muffler ball bearings?"

No, it was worse. I open the box to find a decidedly extreme looking square of cloth, emblazoned with the logo of the electric, earth-friendly vehicle in question. Fortunately, there was a tag attached pointing out that it could be used as a bandana "in emergency situations." The helpful marketing survey that came with it then asked if I was a member of an owners club.

Yeah, I go to the local Y every Monday night and swap tales with my fellow rough-and-tumble club members about my xtreme commuting in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Beltway. Sometimes I even exaggerate a bit when I tell the story about the time I almost put the truck in 4WD on an off-ramp during a light drizzle. And best of all, now I have something to wear when I bring the SUV into Jiffy Lube for its xtreme oil change.