Aww, crap. When I was looking for a picture to hotlink to add interest, I discovered the listing is already on hooniverse. Sheeeee-it.
Well, I paste in the one really good comment from there:
"smelling of dirty hippies and French fries"
My first thought when I saw this post was of my one and only interaction with a Merc Wagon that looked just like this. I was driving up a very narrow twisty road, maybe autumn of 2005 or thereabouts and got stuck behind one for 18 miles. The whole time I'm trapped behind this cat I'm cursing and wondering what the hell smells like McDonalds, to the point where I was reaching under seats to see if there was a half-eaten Value Meal getting hot on the floorboard above the catalytic converter.
Finally the Merc pulls off at a store where I was stopping also. I stepped out of my car, was assaulted anew by the McDonalds smell, then Dreadlocked White Boy opens the door and slithers out of the Merc like his bones were made of flexible conduit. He's straight upwind from me, and added to the french fry smell came an olfactory tsunami of patchouli, weed and body odor.
"Whoaooo," says he. "Graaaaarly roooad." Then the wind gusted hard and he almost fell over.
His hand hit the rear window and when he pushed himself up he left a clear hand print in some greasy misty coating that'd covered most of the car. Through this clear, hand-shaped bit of glass I saw 5-gallon buckets. Labeled McDonalds.
Now this was back before anyone had put much effort into biodiesel, so I was a bit mystified and asked what what he was doing with greasy McD's buckets.
"Whoa, man, it's my berkeleyin' FUUUWEL. My, whoa! I run my car WHOA! On vegetableeees.They have to pay to get it taken away so when I tell 'em I'll take it free, they go all 'WHOOOOA' and tell me to come back tomorrow for more." The whole time he's talking he's wiping his hands on his shirt, which I realize is soaked in the same grease that covers--and motivates--his car. He goes on to explain that he added--WHOA!--another small gas tank, which has normal diesel in it and once the car warms up, WHOA! Switch to Mickey D's, dude, in the main tank.
My initial revulsion turned to fascination as I get what this dude done did. He walked off to the restroom and I just stood there staring at this slimy, stinky Merc wagon. Thinking, to myself, "Whoa."
