The joke goes that you hit middle age and decide to recapture your youth with a sports car. Then you get one look at the Mercedes-AMG GT S and no matter how old you are, you think: I'd gladly take on some existential dread to drive that thing.
Despite what every orthodontist's personal parking spot would suggest, there are other ways to drop six figures on a sports car besides buying the ubiquitous Porsche 911. Perhaps you're looking for something more unexpected and lively, something with more... teeth than the iconic Germanic sports car?
Perhaps you'd like to consider another German sports car? Specifically, the Mercedes- AMG GT S.
Slide inside—ass first, then swivel the legs—and you're 18 again, with a speed-addled grin slapped on your face even while you're still parked in the driveway. Press the start button on the console, nudge the car into drive, and that grin becomes a smirk.
The sound and fury of the GT S makes you wonder if someone at Mercedes time-traveled back to 1970s Detroit, when muscle cars ruled the landscape. This car is loud and rude, the brutish exhaust
rumble of 503 turbocharged horses washing over the poor saps you pass which is everyone
like the aftershock of an earthquake.
But listen, this isn't just a car with a nice personality. You have eyes, right? Look at this thing. It's deviously sexy, sleek and wide, and endlessly curvaceous, with a hood that stretches from the steering wheel off into the sunset. Credit the car's vaunted DNA. The GT S is the younger (and
more affordable) brother of Benz's recently discontinued gullwinged SLS AMG, itself a descendant
of the timeless, extremely rare, also gullwinged Mercedes-Benz 300SL from
the 1950s. Neither of those vehicles, though, boasts such a beautiful rear view. Slather the GT S's
Perhaps you'd like to consider another German sports car? Specifically, the Mercedes- AMG GT S.
Slide inside—ass first, then swivel the legs—and you're 18 again, with a speed-addled grin slapped on your face even while you're still parked in the driveway. Press the start button on the console, nudge the car into drive, and that grin becomes a smirk.
The sound and fury of the GT S makes you wonder if someone at Mercedes time-traveled back to 1970s Detroit, when muscle cars ruled the landscape. This car is loud and rude, the brutish exhaust
rumble of 503 turbocharged horses washing over the poor saps you pass which is everyone
like the aftershock of an earthquake.
But listen, this isn't just a car with a nice personality. You have eyes, right? Look at this thing. It's deviously sexy, sleek and wide, and endlessly curvaceous, with a hood that stretches from the steering wheel off into the sunset. Credit the car's vaunted DNA. The GT S is the younger (and
more affordable) brother of Benz's recently discontinued gullwinged SLS AMG, itself a descendant
of the timeless, extremely rare, also gullwinged Mercedes-Benz 300SL from
the 1950s. Neither of those vehicles, though, boasts such a beautiful rear view. Slather the GT S's
back end in baby oil, set a champagne glass on top, and it would break the Internet all over again.
All of which is to say, this car is too much oomph for a man who hangs diplomas in his office. Yes, there are competitors beyond the 911 worth considering. Nissan's GT-R is brutally fast but kind of robotic: Audi's R8 is exotic, sure, but subdued. They're all superei: whereas the Mercy . is a rolling hunk of raw, pulsing id.
Let everyone around you say the you're having a midge crisis (or a quarter-life crisis), or that you're some over-moneyed attention whore. They might not be wrong, but they definitely won't be grinning so big.—HENRY TAYNE
