Q. Read Case of drivedreamcars.com and answer the questions stated below?

Friday night, after a longer and harder week than usual, Gordon

drove out of the staff car park onto the expressway in his trusty

old diesel estate. It was not the time for speeding. The traffic was

heavy, the night closing in and soothing Classic FM on the radio.

All was relaxing until a lad in a white van

swerved and pushed into the lane two cars up

front while gesticulating in a manner consistent

with his FCUK sticker in his rear window. A line

of drivers' minds were dragged from the FM induced mood as they slammed on brakes.

The traffic flow restarted and Brahms calmed.

Within minutes, the diesel estate pulled into the garage

between a Bentley Mulsanne S and a Porsche 911 Carrera

Tiptronic. Rob walked across. 'You're wanting the Ferrari

Testosterone, yes?' After a brief familiarization and swapping of

keys, Gordon left the family diesel and delicately eased the Ferrari

out of the garage. The 300 bhp engine behind the driver's seat

sounded so Ferrari. The car so light; the engine so eager. A slight

touch on the accelerator and the car exploded forwards. The

machine was eager to go but better to ease into the car's huge

potential rather than playing on a busy road.

Classic FM did not fit the enthusiasm and burr of the Ferrari

and no radio stations ever played anything remotely appropriate at

this time on Friday night. An old Bruce Springsteen album was in

the CD player. It kicked off with Born to Run - 'Chrome wheeled,

fuel injected and steppin' out over the line' - a rising song to blast

in the weekend. Life could not get much better than this, but it

did.

Out of the city and on to country lanes, there, at the side of

the road, was the lad with his white van. This time he was not

gesticulating at other road users but at his motor that was not

running. Gordon smiled and waved, as Springsteen burst into

'Thunder Road', and let the prancing horse free.

This is not a fairy tale. On Monday morning the Ferrari turned

back into a diesel estate and another week of work began. But

next Friday it was to be a family car with a difference - a Maserati

3200 GT. The cars are part of the stable of the Classic Car Club, a

membership organization that hires out cars to drool over. For

about 1,995 (A3,300) a year, members hire cars based on a points

system that varies with time of year, weekend or weekday and

make of car. The price includes everything but fuel. Some of the

cars are true classics, such as the Triumph TR6, Daimler V8,

E-type and Mark II Jaguars. Others, including a Porsche Boxter,

TVR and Aston Martin, are more modern but still interesting to

drive. All for averaging 50 per driving day - less than a normal

car hire and certainly for a lot less than owning a classic car.

As the Independent on Sunday commented, 'I've scratched my

head long and hard to find a catch: there isn't one.'

Whatever the dream that the Classic Car Club offers to its

members, the club has its owners scratching their heads too.

All members want to hire the same exotic open-topped cars on

sunny weekends in summer. Many times the stock of cars is all

out while on other occasions most rest in the garage. Downtime

can also be a problem. These cars are real classics and some

are ageing. Breakdowns can and do occur and take cars off the

road for weeks. There are also the speeding fines incurred by

members who do not realize they can exceed the speed limit

from a standing start in seconds in a car that is designed to attract attention.

Questions

1. What allows a small business, like the Classic Car Club, to

succeed against huge global players in the car hire business

and is it a business concept that could work elsewhere in

the world?

2. How could the club increase its income and even the load

on its cars by appealing to additional market segments or

segmenting its own customer base?