Chad Truckerson thought driving an ultra-modern, wildly angular Tesla Cybertruck would make him irresistible to the ladies. But the brutalist automotive origami has proven a romantic dead end in the coastal burg of Portland, Maine.
"I figured chicks would dig the edgy design," laments Truckerson, a locally renowned pickupologist. "But so far, it's been a total vaj-repellent."
Instead of wooing admirers, the $60,000 steel trapezoid on wheels has made Truckerson a neighborhood laughingstock. Confused passersby stop and gawk, with some mistaking it for an improvised elephant-proof traffic barrier. One elderly resident has already launched a petition demanding the "zany avant-garde junk sculpture" be removed from public streets before causing nautical mishaps.
"I thought I was the illest, rocking futuristic Susan Kare-meets-Walter Gropius realness," sighs the crestfallen Truckerson. "But the hot mamacitas are ghost, and I'm starting to think this angular bro-mobile was a totally sick nasty bro-tational fail."
According to reports, Portland authorities have received dozens of complaints about the jarringly angular vehicle, which some residents compare to an Cubist fever dream or a discarded CGI model from an early 2000s video game. The city council is exploring an ordinance to ban "assaults" on civic beauty standards.
For now, Truckerson soldiers on, chugging canned ambrosia and Loverboy cassettes in the harsh purgatory of his Geometric Dream Bateau. Occasionally he tootles the Cybertruck's ludicrous yeee--aaahhhh-honk to startle passersby and feel alive. "I've angulated too far down this road," he pines. "But at least I know I can still crease panties..."
