In Defense of El Caminos
by Colin Fisher
A MAN is parked in an El Camino at the curb of a busy city street. He’s eating lunch, a greasy burger and fries. He’s unkempt, with stubble and messy hair. He’s wearing a ratty flannel shirt. A COP comes walking by.
Hey buddy, two hour parking zone. Move it or lose it.
I’ve only been here 20 minutes, officer.
I don’t think so, scumbag. Let’s go.
I assure you, I’ll move as soon as I finish eating.
I’m coming back with the tow truck.
The cop leaves. The man looks into the camera.
If you’re like me, you love your El Camino. And if you’re like me, unfortunately that was an all-too familiar scene. My name is Ronald, and as a proud El Camino owner I’ve had to defend my honor countless times against baseless character assassinations. For too long, El Caminoans have had to settle for third-class citizenship. You look at me, and you see a “dirty” man in a “tacky” car/truck hybrid. What if I explained myself? Would that change your mind? Have you ever owned a pickup truck? Do you understand how incredibly convenient a pickup can be? Do you understand how often you’ll be asked to carry things around town for your friends? It’s a conflicted, tortured road. An El Camino maintains that same level of utility while flying under the radar. No longer will your friends assume your vehicle is an option when they need to go to Ikea. No longer will they call you to help with a move, promising pizza and beer but delivering a frequent buyer card from Pinkberry with three stamps. And the gas mileage of an El Camino is certainly nothing to scoff at. As far as my appearance, what if I told you shaving gravely irritated my skin? What if I told you my father recently passed, and this was his favorite shirt? And this meal? What if I told you I was in a hurry because I’m volunteering at an elementary school this afternoon, but I had to work at the retirement home this morning, and this was the only restaurant on the way? Would you still look down on me? Hopefully you’ve learned something here. Don’t persecute me because I drive an El Camino. Don’t persecute me because I don’t always wear the latest fashions. Don’t persecute me because my skin doesn’t look like what you see in commercials.
A little girl walks down the street with her mother. The man glances at them.
Persecute me because I’m a child molester.
He gets out of the car and follows them.
FADE TO TITLE: Paid for by the Coalition to End El Camino Discrimination by Heaping Scorn on Child Molesters