I’ve always preferred a stick shift to an automatic as far as vehicles go. So when Tesla, the car that drives itself, made its first debut, I wasn’t impressed. No thank you, I prefer to be in charge of what my car does and doesn’t do, rather than to sit there in anticipation, waiting for it to figure out its trajectory in order to switch a lane. The whole ‘Look ma, no hands’ thing is cool for like three seconds; afterwards, it’s more annoying than anything else. It’s not like you can take a nap and rely on the car to get you wherever you’re going safely; you still have to pay attention to the road. Between the confirmations of lane switching via touching the blinker and the random hands to wheel check-ins, you might as well be driving the car yourself.
Never thought I’d find myself inside this monstrosity of a car in a million years. Alas, there we were, in a Model X, at 7:30 on a Saturday morning; about to embark on a road trip to Vegas for our friend’s bachelorette party. Why Tesla? Because a very generous gentleman wanted us to have a safe and worry-less trip. Little did he know that it would end up being the complete opposite, but at no point in this story is he the one to blame. He meant well. It’s not his fault that Tesla is a piece of garbage with an unpredictable temper.
We had a plan: hit a bunch of cool spots on the way and do a photoshoot, grab a bite to eat while the car is charging, meet the rest of the crew in Vegas around 3:00, go to a pool party, maybe take a nap, partake in late night festivities, which we also had figured out; comped bottle service and all… Things started to turn dark around noon when we found ourselves pulling into a rest stop, because the all-knowing computer told us we weren’t going to make it to the next Tesla charging station. Now what? Do we cry about it? Hell naw. We put our thinking caps on and arranged to have the stupid thing charge at an RV lot. That’s right, for your convenience, Tesla comes with a converter and a plug, on the off chance that you ever find yourself stranded… So we leave the car to charge for an hour and a half; meanwhile we’re off galavanting in the desert, taking pictures to pass the time.
Did we think that an hour and a half was enough to charge it fully? Of course not; we’re not stupid. It is an RV lot however, so we did assume that it would at least get us enough juice to get to the next Tesla Supercharge Station. Wrong! We gained a total of 2 miles during that charge, which of course disappeared the moment we pulled off the lot. At that point, we had no choice but to rely on some sort of a miracle. After all, you hear those stories, from a friend of a friend, about how they got from Burbank to Glendale on zero miles, and you think to yourself, “This could be us”. Wrong again! Made a left, made a right, and exactly six miles later, the dashboard proclaimed “Car shutting down. Please pull over safely”.
Now, you might be thinking… A bunch of girls; don’t know how to operate a vehicle; just wanna sit there and complain about life. My Tesla is dead, my feet hurt from walking on the hot sand of the Dumes, my face is red from the desert sun – like, those are some first world problems, for real. Surely, that’s how it seemed to everyone passing us by, as we found ourselves stranded with no charging station in sight for another 20 miles. Did I mention that an 84 year old grandma was part of the crew?
We had a plan. That plan incorporated the time it takes to charge the vehicle, as well as the frequency at which it needed to be done, with all the charging stations on the itinerary, just as predicted by the very intelligent gadget on wheels that was at our disposal. If the car is so damn smart, it should accommodate for AC usage and the weather into the “projected” amount of miles left in the battery life. I don’t want to hear the “Well, at any point were you driving up hill? Because that wastes battery” argument. Yes, we were driving up hill! Yes, the music was playing and yes, the AC was on. You don’t buy a Tesla to think about this sh*t. You buy a Tesla because you don’t want to think.
Regardless, there we were, officially stranded, in Death Valley no less. What do you do when your car runs out of gas? You call AAA. What do you do when your rented Tesla runs out of life? You call the Tesla people, and have them tell you that roadside assistance is going to cost $1500; because that’s not a ridiculous number, not when you’re driving a TESLA! So naturally you tell them to screw off and end up calling AAA like you should have done in the first place.
Now, imagine your phone dying and how helpless you feel. You can’t check the time; all your fans are probably texting their poor little fingers off and you can’t respond – the horror! You try to turn it back on and quickly check your messages but it just turns black, and you have no choice but to accept your ugly faith of a phoneless mortal, walking the streets aimlessly as there is nothing in this world for you anymore. Multiply that silly feeling of reliance on technology at your fingertips times a million, and you get the feeling of having your stupid, super-smart, electric car die in your arms; and you not being able to do a single thing about it. It’s not even like you neglected to bring your charger; you have the charger! She’s just a fancy ass bitch that refuses to eat McDonald’s once she’s had filet mignon. Like, I get it, but it’s life or death you stupid bitch, eat the shitty nuggets!
So whatever, she’s dead. We’re on the phone with AAA. To our surprise, they’re being super helpful – gathered all the necessary information and told us help would be on the way in ten minutes. Slightly dumbfounded but obviously pleased with such a short time frame, we started to feel a little more at ease and somewhat cocky even. Like, this is what happens when you smell like a rich person! People flock to you. Research shows that a well-dressed individual, “begging” on the street for something mundane due to a ridiculous, situational disaster like “I lost my wallet and phone, need help to Uber home” might be more successful in getting such help than a homeless-looking person in an actual disastrous situation, because people tend to assume that the rich dude is just having a bad day whereas the homeless person is simply lazy. Little did we know, AAA was full of shit. Tesla or no Tesla, third party “help” calls and informs us that basically they’re very sorry and they totally understand our frustration but they aren’t getting their asses off the couch sooner than in an hour and a half.
Fast forward an hour and a half. Another call comes in and another forty minutes gets added; along with a request for both our credit card (up front) and our location. Shouldn’t you know our location by now? I mean you already quoted us with a time frame, and not a small one… Now you’re adding more time and you don’t even know where you’re going? What’s the deal? I mean, I don’t wanna get derailed here… This isn’t about the fails of society and big corporations vs humanity. It’s about the fact that Tesla is an unnecessarily expensive, poorly designed toy, made for disgustingly rich people that aren’t phased by things like getting stuck in the middle of the desert. What’s the big deal? Just have your private helicopter come get you.
Alas, we ended up waiting for a total of 6 hours before the tow truck finally came, by which point the car was deader than dead; so dead that you couldn’t even put it in neutral in order to tow it properly. Though my feelings towards her weren’t exactly of fondness, it was still painful to watch her soulless body dragged onto the bed of the tow truck, squeaking and screeching the whole way. Let’s not forget that while everyone’s phones were also on the verge of dying, some of us actually had to walk 5 miles (not an exaggeration, and yes, with our sand-burned feet) to meet the truck because even after explicit directions, they still somehow couldn’t find us…
But wait, there’s more. When we finally get to the Supercharging Station, with 5 of us crammed in the back seat of a pickup truck because the driver decided to bring his wife along, our lovely Tesla refuses to accept the plug in her damn mouth. She is literally so DEAD that her teeth are clenched and straight up will not accept the feeding tube that is the only thing that’s gonna bring her back to life, and more importantly, us back on track. Forget it, we’re way beyond off track. At this point, it’s already 10pm. Add another hour to figure out how to jump start her from the front, in order for her to let you hit it from the back. Typical woman…
Add an hour and a half of sitting in the parking lot, waiting for her to charge. Add $300 for all the towing shenanigans (better than $1500, I suppose). Add two hours of driving to finally get to the hotel, where of course the rest of the party is dead asleep.
Dear Tesla, please never make planes…
Edit: You would think that such a superior piece of technology would have a backup plan; an actual gas tank built in; a form of an emergency reserve… Nope! I just can’t get over how much of a piece of sh*t this $200,000 car is. SMDH.