Gary loves his car. Roaming the city, he revs the engine and smirks down on the Cinquecentos and Micras and Clios. He is wild about the brand name, Rambo, but privately he calls his spanking new four-wheel drive "the beast". Feeling like an urban Indiana Jones, he fishes in the pocket of his three-piece suit for his mobile phone. The Sports Utility Vehicle, he informs the gang, is so much more fulfilling than the Beemer.
It's a sign of the affluent times. Gary's wife owns a Lady Roadraider 96. "It's an absolute must for the school runs," she says. In recent years the demand for Sports Utility Vehicles (SUVs) or off-roaders has been steadily growing here.
Perhaps inevitably, the backlash has begun. A site on the Internet (The Ultimate Poseur SUV Page) lambastes the owners of these 4 x 4s. The author defines a true four-wheel poseur as someone who dreams he is nearing the peak of a remote mountain whenever he drives over a speedbump, as a driver who shifts into four-wheel drive at the sign of a pothole. Chances are you know one or two.
These vehicles cost too much, brake too slow and do not handle as well as cars, they maintain. But worst of all is the trend of mainstream car manufacturers branching into this market. Porsche are apparently considering producing one and BMW has a prototype with homey-looking fake wooden sides.
The fact that sales of these vehicles are, according to most dealers here, on the increase mystifies motoring expert and editor of Car Driver magazine Karl Tsigdinos. "They are completely and utterly impractical, they are not comfortable, they don't have good fuel consumption and they are not as safe as cars," he says.
"Their popularity is down to image totally and utterly. I wouldn't buy one unless I lived on the side of a mountain," he adds.
Their massive success in the US can be somewhat justified as they cost considerably less there than in Ireland. But here, more and more people are forking out between £25,000 and £50,000 to purchase a 4 x 4.
Some fit them with the notorious bullbars about which grave safety concerns have been raised. These bulky strips of metal that go over the headlights are called Roo bars in Australia. Deep in the Bush they serve a perfectly practical function of making sure the stray kangaroo rather than the car suffers should Skippy hop out unexpectedly. But it is hardly a vital accessory in down-town Dublin or inner city Cork.
Not for nothing are these vehicles known in the US as "small weener" cars. They are so much higher, placing the driver more than a foot above the conventional motorist. Most won't admit it, but it gives them a smug sense of superiority to be looking down on everyone.
"Status symbol-wise they are in the same league as a top-of-the-range Mercedes," says marketing manager of Rover Ireland Anthony Neville.
Neville estimates that only 10 per cent of owners ever go off-road in their vehicles. "They might not want to use it off-road but they want to be able to brag to their friends that their car is capable of tackling rough terrain. In the same way people buy sturdy mountain boots but only ever wear them into the pub," he says.
They are the vehicle of choice for the man or woman who has everything. Half of Boyzone are apparently considering buying one, Gavin O'Reilly has one already and pop diva Lisa Stansfield prowls the streets of south Co Dublin in hers.
Slightly less prolific, but every bit in love with his Toyota Landcruiser, is Today FM DJ Philip Cawley. "The real attraction is that I am 6 foot 2 and 15 stone, so it's the only car I can drive comfortably," he says. With the obligatory "I only drive it for practical reasons" declaration out of the way, Cawley concedes that he likes to feel King of the Road.
"I have to say you do get an air of superiority when you are pulling out of a junction. Other car drivers become curiously courteous when they see a great big chunk of black metal coming up behind them. There is a thrill to it all and any guy that tells you he wouldn't love a 4 x 4 with wheels bigger than a tractor is lying," he says.
It wouldn't be accurate, much less fair, to conclude that all drivers of offthe-road vehicles buy them for macho, ego or status reasons. There are, of course, those who make genuine use of their machine. Farmers, for example, and horse owners, who use them to tow their horseboxes, may well need such vehicles. Some people use them to facilitate hobbies that require heavy equipment - one scuba diving enthusiast in The Irish Times swears by his.
Most, however, are owned by sharp-suited city slickers whose only experience of rough terrain is the gravel on their driveway. They like the rugged and ready image it portrays, but would loathe a single mud splatter to blight their shiny chrome.
In their fortified motor bubbles they imagine all types of action-hero scenarios and hog the road as a result. One SUV manual goes as far as to remind these would-be action heroes that "this vehicle is not a tank". But they have their uses. "Whether it is on school runs or a desert rally raid, the Mitsubishi Pajero is technologically ready to perform at the highest level," goes one PR line. Maybe. But the only place Gary ever gets sand is between his toes.