Editor’s note: this article, originally published online on February 16, 2021 was moved forward to June 8 to match its publication today in the print edition, and may be rolled back to its original date of publication.
My husband had parked the car at the Total gasoline station along the SLEX in Sta Rosa to grab a few snacks before rushing to meet up with college friends for a rather sad occasion.
My mood was sullen and a bit blue, as a classmate just passed from the coronavirus. I think I was staring blankly towards the direction of where the Suzuki S-presso, a silver little thing, pleasing but not in a giggly, cute way, just small but tall. And from where it stood it sort of stared back saying “what are you looking ah?” It wasn’t cute at all.
At that very moment, a man approaches it, extends both arms as if measuring it and walks away, with what seemed to me, a jolly gait.
That one single act, made by an anonymous man cheered up my morning. I realized the death of a friend is a new life. The man’s stretching his arms was like an embrace. Akin to a soul-comforting bowl of hot mami, or a nice cup of espresso (pun intended), the arm stretching was an act of humanity. And the man did not even realize it.
The incident became part of the laughter exchanged while socially distanced with masks and face shields at the Eternal Gardens in Sta. Rosa. Stranger than fiction, it was. Laughing caused the face shields to fog and inhaling back one’s own carbon dioxide did not make for boisterous laughter, the kind of guffaw my friend, who is, at now, sadly in an urn, would like.
That’s not the story there.
The Suzuki S-presso deserved that man’s admiration. He was probably sizing up the little car for a couple of reasons. A taller man, possibly a six-footer basket player would have theoretically stretched over the car’s whole 11.69 ft. length.
This 3.65cm (about 3,650mm) span is already as long as the wheelbase of a big SUV. The smallish S-presso is as big as any proper car would be because it performed admirably–over and above expectations.
It also got bitten, infected rather, by the government-imposed enhanced community quarantine, its introduction right in the middle of the coronavirus scare. So, there was no formal launch. No driving to some resort. No food and drinks. No karaoke after dinner. It was one of the very first virtual car launches–a template by which other car manufacturers seemed to have latched on.
But it did very well for the S-presso, I think. The car didn’t need a large splash to get known. It will be known by its merits–starting from P523K price tag–cheaper than most things with four wheels (or even two) to the small and agile engine, not a surprising part of the car. No 0-100 kph in the low 7 seconds here. It will rocket to a hundred in say, the time it takes to listen to a radio ad. But does it matter? Who says capability must only come from drag racer acceleration?
I asked where the S-Presso sat between the Alto and Celerio–all small and capable in their own way. I was told it replaces the Alto, another un-cute but very capable Suzuki, so out goes small car, in comes a small SUV. That is what the S-Presso reminds me, my Kuya’s Pajero Jr. Except without the fat tires, which it does not really need. It sits five passengers and is powered by a 1.0-liter naturally aspirated gasoline engine with no other option but a manual transmission option available to the vehicle is a 5-speed manual.
It was not disturbing at all that the small S-Presso, the width just enough to fit two adults closely, even romantically close, in fact, could drive up to highway speeds confidently. Of course, it was a bit noisy at highway speeds but that noise cannot be avoided. Unlike bigger cars with pads upon pads of sound insulation, this car will suffer a weight penalty with it. The noise levels are not disturbing, and if one considers that it drives a little higher than usual, the road noise is centimeters farther than say, a normal sedan.
Now that is an editor’s expression of my impression. I simply wasn’t bothered by the noise. I was more impressed by the roundish center console that housed the radio and questioned why there were no power window risers in the rear doors. I also though the plastic wheel covers were pretentious–the black metal wheels seemed more honest and direct. There should be nothing to be ashamed of with the S-Presso. In my humble opinion it has so much value, which the market simply compares in terms of “automated” or “technological” features–just like how white skin or bigger bosoms are appreciated now.
The S-Presso as it is has nothing to hide. Why do I say this?
Here is a quick list. First, it’s small. A perfect run about in the city, easy-to-park and easy to drive even with the absence of an automatic transmission. Second, it is frugal. A small engine, a good weight and all that frugality with the airconditioner on too. Third, it is practical.
There is no other car, at least in the many that I have ridden or driven that is as practical as the S-Presso–enough cargo space, simple materials, everything seems to be in place, even the controls for the front power windows in the console, which my hubby said reminded him of his uncle’s Datsun Cedric, in the days. I don’t know what he meant, but I was requested to write it down.
I was also requested to write down and praise the S-Presso as being a fun car. By fun, he meant that he could “drive it like a go-kart,” which is my fourth reason for saying this car has nothing to hide. I have never ridden or driven a go-kart.
Having seen my hubby transform into a little kid when onboard one of those things, I can surmise how fun it is. The S-presso is not a sports car so it should not be treated like one much less expected to perform like one.
Driving the S-Presso is a reminder of what driving ought to be. Simple, fun, and energetic. It could be the perfect first car, and it could also be the perfect alternate car. Like the tiny cup of coffee with which it shares its name, the S-Presso is a boost, a kick, but without the pain or high maintenance, or high running costs.
