The Car

An average day at the patent office. Our dear clerk sat at his office, dutifully filing applications when there was a sharp knock at the office door. Though busy, the clerk casually flicked his eyes to the door before returning to the papers before him.

“Come in!”

Mr. Carr, a rather uninteresting man undeserving of a description, poked his head sheepishly into the office from behind the door, patiently watching the clerk, waiting to speak.

“Hello. I have an appointment.”

The clerk looked up, quickly scanning Mr. Carr.

“Mr. Carr?”

“Yes.”

The clerk stood up, extending his hand for Mr. Carr.

“Come in! Welcome to the patent office!”

Smiling, Mr. Carr scurried into the office, carrying his briefcase, hurrying to shake the clerk’s hand, before sitting in the seat in front of the desk, just as the clerk sits as well.

“How may I help you today?”

Mr. Carr opened his briefcase, taking out and handing over a messily shuffled collection of documents.

“I’m looking to patent my two newest inventions. The first is a type of horseless transport machine. I call it... a CAR.”

The clerk flicked through the documents, growing further enthralled with each page.

“A machine that will transport people WITHOUT a horse? Why, that’s extraordinary! This will change the world! Before I file your patent, I’ll need to understand the ins-and-outs of this “car”. So, this machine is controlled by some kind of computer system?”

“No. It’ll be a person.”

“... A person?”

“Yes.”

“... OH! I understand. It works like a bicycle, with pedals turning wheels.”

“No. An engine will turn the wheels.”

“Oh! ... Like a petrol engine?”

“Yes! Exactly!”

“That’ll be awfully noisy... and dirty... and expensive, won’t it?”

“Oh, incredibly so! And combustible.”

“... The engine drives the car too?”

“No! The person will drive the car.”

“... Is that safe?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what’s to stop someone from, let’s say, drinking and driving, or falling asleep while driving?”

“Oh, absolutely nothing.”

Our unfortunate clerk stared, mortified. Mr. Carr gasped, suddenly remembering a point.

“But you will need a license to drive a car.”

The clerk sighed and laughed, relieved.

“Oh, good! So, the car won’t start without the license inserted?”

“Oh no, it’ll start even if you don’t have a license.”

“So, what’s the point of the license!”

“It’ll be like a passport for driving.”

“OH! Now I see. So, you’ll need to renew your license every ten years?”

“Oh no, just the once.”

“... Wait... So, I could get a license at twenty-one and keep driving well into old age, when I might go blind, or senile, or die behind the wheel and hit someone!”

“Twenty-one? Goodness, no!”

“Oh, thank heavens!”

“You can get a license at sixteen.”

The clerk, incapable of smothering his seething disbelief, shot up, standing from behind the desk, staring down at Mr. Carr, who’s still underwhelmingly oblivious.

“SIXTEEN!”

“Technically fifteen and nine months, but you won’t be able to rent a car until you’re twenty-one.”

“This all sounds terribly dangerous for pedestrians.”

“That’s why it’ll include a button that’ll activate a horn, to alert people a car is coming.”

Wearily, the clerk slowly lowered himself back into his chair.

“I suppose that could be useful.”

“Oh yes. Assholes will love it.”

“… Excuse me?”

“Assholes. They’ll abuse it to no end. In traffic, at night, in a rage. No one will ever use it for its intended purpose, ever!”

“And what about the speed. It won’t go fast, will it?”

“No, of course not.”

The clerk sighed, wiping his brow, writing down this detail upon the form. Mr. Carr watched the clerk simmer but couldn’t help but inhale to speak again.

“Unless you want it to.”

The clerk, straining to remain composed, shaking with the effort, slowly looked up.

“...I’m going to regret asking this... how fast can it go?”

Mr. Carr looked off to a corner of the ceiling, his mouth gaping slightly in contemplation.

“Oh… You can do about... one mile an hour... two miles an hour...”

The clerk smiled, chuckling to himself, easing his scrunched shoulders.

“Oh. Well, that’s not so bad.”

“… Three miles an hour... Really, anything up to one hundred.”

The clerk shot up again, like a champagne cork.

“A hundred miles per hour!”

“It’s alright! It’ll have safety features.”

“Like what!”

“Well, when it’s going a hundred miles per hour, loses control, runs over a bunch of people, flips over, leaks flammable petrol everywhere, and smashes into another car, a little balloon will quickly pop out of the steering wheel.”

The clerk, flustered, was speechless in agitated shock. Mr. Carr watched, smiling dopily. Once again, a gasp of recollection escaped him.

“Oh, I forgot to mention; we’ll need to pave roads to drive on.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere. The entire country.”

“But that’ll destroy the environment!”

“You think that’s bad? You should see what it does to the air!”

The clerk, helpless, absolutely helpless, just stared at Carr in disbelief for several seconds before finding his voice.

“I am sorry, but I, in all good conscience, cannot approve of an invention that is this expensive, noisy, and reckless, especially one that’ll endanger so many lives. Why, on Earth, would we approve of such a monstrosity?”

“Because of my second invention I wanted to patent.”

“Which is?”

“Car tax.”

The clerk grabbed a stamp and slammed it down upon the documents, labelling them “APPROVED”.

#HI