As GQ’s yearlong test of the Fiat 500 comes to a close, its stellar performance bodes well for the Fiat-Chrysler union, and for the future of small cars in America.
Assuming you breed, you will probably own a minivan at some point in your life. You may scoff at this. You may be like, “Pfft. Minivans are for pussies. Ain’t no taming this tiger!” Wrong. You are not a tiger, and you can be tamed with shocking ease. When I was 25, I never thought I’d own a minivan. I thought I’d become very rich, move to a house on stilts in the Hollywood Hills, snort enough cocaine to fill a blimp, and drive around in a low-slung sports car with two undocumented Russian sex workers riding shotgun. Ten years later, I’m buying a minivan. And I’m elated about it. How is this possible?