Text heavy, sorry!
A couple of months back I was fortunate enough to receive an invite to my local OPC to see the new 991 launch. Never having been to a car launch before I had no idea what to expect, however I was bowled over by what I witnessed. Greeted on the door and given a commemorative 991-shaped paperweight, I was then immediately offered a date to test drive the new car, and only then did I really get a chance to go and look over the thing. There were 4 different 991s of various colours and configurations dotted around the showroom and workshop, and a line of all the shapes of 911 over the years from a very early shape to the 997, beautifully done.
There were hot and cold canapes handed out by the lovely staff walking around, and pots of incredibly good cheese sticks strategically placed around for you to help yourself. Champagne was free flowing, as were fruit cocktails for the drivers. The music for the evening was provided by a lovely blonde lady who played some jazz saxaphone, just wandering around and mingling. There was a proper presentation of the car by one of the Porsche big nobs, and a video to accompany this showing the original design and some of the engineering too, along with Mr Rohrl ragging the arse off the car. There was a 991-themed questionnaire with prizes, and all of the staff were available to take orders and just chat in general, and they were both relaxed but professional. In short, it was the perfect evening.
Fast forward now to last night. The scene: the Ferrari dealership in Kensington, London. The car: The 458 Spyder. Yeah, I got an invite to that too.
Myself and my mate Mark rocked up at a fraction past 7pm to find the place full of people wearing suits worth considerably more than my house I suspect, chatting and swilling the champagne or beer or Martini or whatever they asked for. The place was decorated like a school disco, so loads of flashing lights and a dodgy DJ playing current chart 'choons' at a volume that meant you had to shout to hear each other. There was a single 458 Spyder in the middle of the room, and myself and Mark appeared to be the only people interested in it. We got in, had a poke and a prod around (of the car!), tested the seats for comfort and driving position, working out if you'd feel comfortable placing the nose down a country lane (you wouldn't), the usual petrolhead thing. Everyone else stood around drinking and chatting.
After about 45mins we were told to stand clear of the car, presumably for the big unveiling. Ferrari bloke got in (at least I presume it was a Ferrari guy, you couldn't tell who was and who wasn't), started the engine, dropped the roof and turned it off again. This was the time for all the TOWIE-styled totty of the evening to descend and get Daddy, both the regular kind and the sugar type, to take a photo of them sitting in it ready for the 5mph pose down the high street. Depressing is not the word. At this point me and Mark wandered off to look at the genuine 250 GTO sat in the corner that no-one was paying any attention to. Now you wouldn't think they'd leave a £12M car open, but they did. Mark got three-quarters of the way inside before three gorillas swooped and politely asked him to remove himself from the car they'd been loaned by Nick Mason...
We then meandered downstairs to have poke around of a 599 (nose is too long for me) and the California (oh I do want one of those so much), and then back upstairs to compare the relative benefits of the differing seat options in modern Fezzas. End result: I hate the sport seats as they poke at the back of my knees, but the Daytona ones are lush. Back upstairs to the main gathering and we popped into what I assume is normally the race history room with photos of old GP cars around, and a signed replica of the F10 steering wheel that Alonso used. For this evening however, it was a showroom for Hublot watches. I had a quick gander, but I'm not really a watch person so it was a surprise that I saw one I liked. The salesman clearly saw this and, wrongly sniffing blood, came over and asked me if I wanted to try it on, an offer I accepted. I removed it fairly sharpish after catching a glance of the £7800 sticker price on the back though.
TL;DR: Porsche sell to drivers, Ferrari sell to posers. Or at least, they do in the case of these particular cars in these particular locations. I'm very much looking forward to attending the upcoming 981 Boxster launch to be reminded how to launch a car with at least a little bit of class.