Supercars are a mystical breed. They’re the unicorns of the automotive world. Fire breathing, flamboyant unicorns swathed in Kevlar and unobtanium. But even unicorns need to leave a carbon fiber defecation behind every now and then.

At Classic Car Club, we have both the privilege and burden of sleeping with a harem of unicorns. Consider this your guide to living the supercar life.

That means in our modern times, you’ll be featured in approximately 2,450 mobile phone pictures every time you pull your unicorn out of the stable.

It’s probably best to get a haircut. You’re going to be a Facetube legend. Truth is, unicorns emote a few powerful responses from those who see one, amongst them are shock and awe. It’s not everyday you see something roll down the street with the seductive angles of an Aventador or the brimstone growl of a McLaren 650S. That means in our modern times, you’ll be featured in approximately 2,450 mobile phone pictures every time you pull your unicorn out of the stable. This can be handled in a few ways. As the guy/gal with the reins in your hand, you can ignore the masses with aloof demeanor and go on your business, you can chat up everyone that gives you the international sign to roll the window down, or you can take our approach, which is a smile, quick tip of the hat and move on to the next human roadblock of dropped jaws.

Aside from shock and awe, be prepared for detest. That’s the other response. Detest from people assuming you’re burning gas at polar bear killing speeds (albeit modern day supercars are rather efficient. I get 32mpg in a McLaren MP4-12C in 7th gear on the highway, but that’s not the point right now), or from people that wanted to read the paper in silence without a fiery riff V10 invading their space or by women that think you’re driving a unicorn just to get their attention.



The fastest unicorns are always the slowest. While an F12 can tip the speed scales comfortably past the 200mph mark, but unless your on the Autobahn, it ain’t gonna happen. Mostly, if you’re driving in civilization, you’re going to do many miles in first gear. There isn’t one reason for this, but rather a combination of factors that include traffic, potholes, onlookers, rubbernecking, narrow passageways, you name it. Almost everything is slower in a unicorn. Almost.

You should also know no one wants to hear you complain about the inconveniences of supercardom.

Unicorns don’t have trunks. You really can’t fit anything meaningful in the horn either. If you’re a unicornist, it’s best to get yourself a quality, soft-sided weekend bag. To pack a supercar for a trip is less like packing and more like cramming and jamming. Really, the bag is just to get your belongings from the house and to the car then from the car to your final destination. The actual car part usually requires one to empty their bag and jam belongings behind and under seats. You should also know no one wants to hear you complain about the inconveniences of supercardom. If storage is what you want, you should be looking for a Clydesdale, not a unicorn.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder they say. This is true with unicorns, too. Unicorns are high-strung, whinnying things and they don’t come off your common assembly line. Most automotive manufacturers crash more cars in testing than Bugatti builds. This means small things are always going to go wrong. Here’s one for you—the dash of a 458 Italia Ferrari is made of three separate digital screens. The one on the right? That one is going to stop working on you, taking your radio along with it. To get it fixed, a few guys have to take your whole dashboard apart, stare at it a while, then put it back together. This takes three weeks. Then you get your unicorn back and the problem is still there, just as before. Rinse, wash, repeat.



Finally, there’s the responsibility. As a unicorn operator, you have a few important jobs. The first is to learn how to drive. Just because you can afford 650 brake unicorn power doesn’t mean you know how to handle it. Do yourself a favor and take some performance driving lessons. The world needs more unicorns in it, not fewer.

Think of your unicorn like a legendary painting. It’s terrible to stash it away in a vault when the world wants to bask in it’s mythological beauty.

The other responsibility is to share your unicorn with the world and let others touch its beautiful, exotic mane. Think of your unicorn like a legendary painting. It’s terrible to stash it away in a vault when the world wants to bask in its mythological beauty. Should you be taming a unicorn of your own, pull over in town and let a kid get in it and soak in the wonder. Like with all good deeds, there is a reward to this. Keep a close eye out for the moment when that little guy or gal’s mind totally explodes. That’s the moment you changed their life and, perhaps you’ve just saved them from a boring life trajectory. You might have just made a racer, rather than another middle manager.

All this might sound like a owning a unicorn isn’t worth it. But the cool things about unicorns is they can fly, and when they do, everything else loses relevance. Once behind the wheel with sequential shifters in hand, a proper supercar will transform the way you see the world. The supersonic flight speeds require you to look way, way down the road and induces tunnel vision. Banging through the gears during hard acceleration is a swirl of euphoric glitter trails. The screaming, savage, shrill exhaust note fighting to free itself from the confines of the car is the unicorn's effective mating call, rendering all sexes and breeds powerless.

Sleeping with unicorns has its complications, but the sex is great.

Michael Prichinello is co-founder of the world-famous New York's Classic Car Club, which allows members to take rare breeds of unicorns, from Ferraris and Aston Martins, for a spin.