The History of Sex: Geneva -- The Skoda Girls of the Geneva Motor Show -- (Chap. V, Pt. 17)

In fact, keeping the West-Country Mechanic in mind (I don't think I'll ever be able forget him), you can't help but suspect a lot of guys here would try to get off with a car, too, given half the chance.

Maybe that's the real reason why the lights are so bright at motor shows: any lapse in illumination, and the car nerds would drop their elastobands and start buggering the Bugattis, fellating the Ferraris and rimming the Alfa Romeos.

After barely an hour of soaking up this 'atmosphere,' even Lena's depressed.

'This is ruining the dream,' she grumbles. 'Cars for me have gone from sexy to sad.'

She points over the barrier at a gentleman who's carefully ratcheting his hips into the racing seat of a Ferrari.

'See—that's the problem with that kind of car. The kind of people who can buy them aren't the kind of people you can enjoy them with.'

ONE IN YOUR EYE

As we head dejectedly to the bar, I finally find what I've been looking for: two fabled 'booth babes' frolicking in the back of a car.

'It's a Skoda,' Lena notes, rather uncharitably.

That may be, but Skoda's never looked so good.

Being an oft-ridiculed East European carmaker, the company seems to have realized it needs to go that extra mile to get people's attention.

Not only is the new Fabia supermini mounted on a slowly spinning dais, but it also has two leggy brunettes doing their best to look comfortable while sitting crammed in the rear of the hatchback, gamely smiling and laughing for photos.

As I make my approach, Nikolina and Jessica have just fended off the amorous enquiries of a drooling Claude.

Nikolina kept flinching every time he spoke.

'He was spitting on my arm!' she laughs. 'It was disgusting!'