So much wealth, so much misery

MY casual job as a car detailer taught me more than how to make a panel shine.

Despite the gruelling hours slaving away at an industrial warehouse in Braeside, I took away one lesson I’ll never forget.

It was one particularly tough summer day when we were run off our feet and drenched in sweat.

Sometime through the afternoon, a teenager, probably aged about 19 — arrived at the factory with his dad in a black convertible Mercedes.

As it turns out, this teen had his own blue convertible Mercedes — purchased by his wealthy father — that had just been repaired at the workshop.

I think everyone was taken aback as the convertible was brought out to greet this young guy.

I couldn’t help but feel a mixture of jealousy and anger, knowing I’d splashed out every cent of my savings when I was 18 for my beloved XR6 Ford Falcon.

But what was about to happen infuriated me even more. Because the car had been sitting idle since it had been repaired and detailed, it had accrued a slight bit of dust. It sent the guy into a frenzy. He threw a bottle at the workshop floor, sending broken glass all across the workplace as he screamed in anger that his prized Mercedes was “covered in dust”. I’ll never forget the image of five men rushing to clean this car with hand towels as this boy stood screaming and yelling at them, surrounded by broken glass. My boss probably expected me to join them — but I was so filled to the brim with anger and disgust that I couldn’t bring myself to move.

The repairs to the Mercedes were carried out entirely under insurance and in a timely fashion, yet this guy felt the need to taunt and abuse the very people who made it possible.

He should be thankful his loaded dad bought him a luxury car in the first place because most of us have to work for our belongings.

But it also showed me that it really is true that money can’t buy happiness. This kid looked so miserable, despite receiving his newly repaired and cleaned Mercedes — probably worth about $60,000.

Meanwhile I’m perfectly content driving around in my 2005 Falcon.

It’s served me well since I was 18 — even if it isn’t the most eye-catching ride.