Tesla is selling every Model 3 it can screw together. Astonishingly, it's selling so many of them that the Model 3 outsold every BMW passenger car combined. We should note that BMW still leads if you include SUV sales, but beating the Germans at passenger cars is no small feat. Here's the number breakdown: BMW sold 14,450 passenger cars in the U.S. market in August. This number includes sales from compact crossovers like the X1 and X2 as well. That's a 13.5 percent decrease in car sales from August 2017. Car sales tracking site GoodCarBadCar lists Model 3 sales at 20,450 for the month of August. However, that's only an estimate because Tesla doesn't report official sales numbers. Other news outlets have estimated figures in the 17,000 range. And Bloomberg's Tesla Tracker site puts the current production level of the Model 3 at 4,800 cars per week. But any of the estimates are safely above BMW's exact figure. The BMW 3 Series (the Model 3's direct competitor) sold only 3,751 cars in August.

What a difference 50 years makes juxtaposition of Lincoln Continental, 1971 and Lincoln Nautilus, 2021. In 1971 the Continental Sedan was Lincoln’s biggest selling model. Their current biggest seller, the Nautilus, has been revised for the 2021 model year. Interestingly in both cases sales are in the region of 30,000 unit per year. The most recent Continental was discontinued earlier this year and not replaced 

Sometimes when I get really bored I like to go down to the local dealership and pretend to be a salesman. It’s not all that hard; there’s always a pile of spare shirts in the back, and you can say whatever the fuck you want about anything because nobody expects a salesman to know what he is talking about.

Today, my victims are a young couple, fresh out of college, looking to get their first car together. They have a massive dog, they tell me, and for a few minutes we are scrolling together through their collective phone camera backlog in search of pictorial evidence of the dog’s existence. I have the perfect car for them, I tell them, and lead them out into the parking lot, where the wheezing Tercel I have driven to the dealership leaks its lifeblood into the cracked tarmac.

“Look at this motherfucker,” I tell them. “Quad turbos. You can drive to the moon and back on a thimble full of gas. The suspension cures kidney cancer, I shit you not. Ferry Porsche once tried to stab me for the secrets behind the air conditioning, which doesn’t work because it’s terrible for the environment.”

The male of the couple has decided that he wants to negotiate with me, because he has identified through exposure to mass media that car salesmen are always willing to negotiate. He says he wants $1000 off. I tell him I’ll talk to my manager.

Five minutes later, I return from taking a piss on the manager’s parked-across-two-spots Jaguar to shake their hands. Congratulations, I tell them, you won’t regret this, and ask if their twenty grand will come in the form of a cheque or a money order.

A month later, when I am appointed Salesman of the Year to the complete confusion of the existing sales staff, the dealership principal asks me how I did it. The secret is confidence, I tell him. By the way, you look like a man who could use a new car. I have the perfect car for you, it’s just out front here.