Gather 'round, believers, because the greatest piece of vaporware in automotive history just got another update. The Tesla Roadster—yes, the one Elon Musk unveiled back in 2017 when "Despacito" was on the radio and we all still thought Mars was happening by 2024—is reportedly still a thing. Allegedly. Sort of.
For those who missed the last eight years of this soap opera, here's the recap: In November 2017, Musk rolled out a sleek red prototype, promised 0-60 in 1.9 seconds, a 620-mile range, and a top speed over 250 mph. Reservations opened at $50,000 a pop, on top of a $200,000 base price. People—thousands of them—actually handed over real money for a car that existed only as a shiny shell and a PowerPoint.
Flash forward to today. NASA has landed rovers on Mars. We survived a global pandemic. The Cybertruck launched, flopped, and became a rolling stainless-steel meme. And the Roadster? Still "coming next year," according to a rotating cast of Tesla executives who say it with the confidence of a guy who swears he'll pay you back "Friday, for sure."
Here's the thing that gets me. Musk himself has admitted the Roadster is basically a dessert car—the fun thing you build after you've solved the actual meal. Except the meal keeps catching fire. Tesla's had recalls, price cuts, a stock chart that looks like a heart monitor during a horror movie, and a CEO who spends more time posting memes and running a government agency than, you know, making cars. Priorities, right?
And yet, the faithful remain. There's a whole subreddit of reservation holders who've been waiting so long their $50,000 deposits have basically become interest-free loans to a billionaire. Some have reportedly asked for refunds. Others are holding on out of sheer spite, which, honestly? Respect. That's the American dream—stubbornly refusing to admit you got scammed.
Let's talk specs, because they're hilarious in hindsight. The original 2019 target was 1.9 seconds to 60. Musk later claimed a "SpaceX package" with cold-gas thrusters could get it under 1.1 seconds—which would make it faster than literally anything with wheels and most things without. It's the automotive equivalent of promising your Tinder date you're six-foot-two and built like a Marvel extra. Sure, buddy.
The real question nobody's asking: does anyone even want this anymore? In 2017, a 600-mile electric supercar was science fiction. Today, Lucid, Porsche, and even Kia are cranking out EVs that embarrass gas cars. The Roadster isn't a moonshot anymore—it's a nostalgia act. It's the band that keeps announcing a reunion tour that never materializes while the opening acts get famous.
Meanwhile, Tesla's actual lineup is aging, competition is eating its lunch, and the company's brand has become a political Rorschach test. So yeah, the Roadster would be a nice distraction. A shiny, fast, absurdly expensive distraction. Which is exactly why it'll probably get delayed again the moment anyone asks too many questions about, say, robotaxis or Cybertruck sales.
But hey, maybe this is the year. Musk says production starts "soon." He also said full self-driving was two years away in 2016. So you do the math. Actually, don't—math is clearly not the vibe here.
**The Take:** The Tesla Roadster is less a car and more a group therapy session for people who gave Elon Musk $50,000 and got a decade of vibes in return. At this point, waiting for it is a personality trait, not a purchase decision. Wake me when it actually ships—or when Musk announces the next "next year."