I get the same depressed feeling from this truck that I get when I go to a casino and witness the miserable, chain smoking old people camping out at the slot machines. Their eyes tell the whole story:
“This started out fun and I’m not sure exactly where I went wrong, but now I’m fucked.”
Between the mail slot scoop, the lights, the racing stripes color matched to the prancing horse vanity plate and not to the roll bar (which matches the Durango in the background perfectly, strangely enough), the flex pipe exhaust stacks with the flaps facing horizontally, and the fact that it’s kind of a semi rare old Mazda, I don’t feel even remotely qualified to try and wager a guess as to what kind of person drives this thing. Willy Wonka maybe? Who knows.
Your guess is as good as mine.