When you launch a vehicle during the year’s most over-hyped estrogenfest, you’re obviously trying to appeal to a specific demographic. Specifically, not us.
There’s a reason we haven’t taken a crack at the Mercedes-Benz GLK until the sequel to Sex and the City hit the screen. It was just too easy to pigeonhole this cute ‘ute as nothing more than a boxy four-wheeled trinket – a cynical fashion accessory designed to compliment your rat-faced pooch and Manolo Blahniks (yes, we had to look that up).
But a funny thing happened on the way down I-5.
While blasting the stereo and hauling along at a decidedly Germanic clip, all of the stereotypes about the GLK’s target demographic flew out its expansive sunroof. For as much as we dislike the mere idea of “entry-level luxury” – and in particular the scads of pseudo-SUVs that populate it – the GLK started to make sense. It’s well proportioned, has adequate power and comes with nearly enough amenities to match its tri-pointed badge. We actually enjoyed it, even though our manhood might’ve taken a hit in the process.
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