Things change when you start driving a convertible. Especially a Corvette convertible. The first conversation occurred in a shopping center parking lot.
Anonymous Asshole In a Mercedes E350: (sneers silently but with supercilious eloquence at Joy, my 2009 C6 Corvette convertible.)
FWP: (smiles) Nice car.AAIM: (dourly) Yeah. I like Benz.
FWP: (pushes button to lower the top) So do I. My bad-weather car is an S550.
AAIM: (dumbfounded, watches me drive away.)
Of course I related this exchange to the C.S.O. And she, of course, had an opinion of her own.
CSO: You had to ruin the poor guy’s day!
FWP: Sweetie! It was obligatory. I have an image to maintain.CSO: What? Are you telling me you intend to acquire a lifestyle?
FWP: Naah, no need. You adopt a lifestyle to get an image, but if you can get an image without one...!
CSO: I like it! But what do we need for our new image?
FWP: I’ll have to start wearing a snazzy blazer and silk shirts with the collar open.
CSO: Am I going to have to snap my gum and dye my hair blonde?
FWP: No, we’re going higher-toned than that. For you, high heels, tight dresses, and a lot more jewelry.
CSO: Gahh. Sausage casings.
FWP: Hey, you said you were committed to losing weight. Were you joshing?
CSO: No, but—
FWP: (leers) Besides, I like sausage. Don't you?
CSO: (unprintable)
Life is good.
2 comments:
That's REALLY why we buy the sports cars - to see the envy on the faces of the Progressives and SJWs.
(chuckle) Well, it's one reason, at least. Another is that, whether he admits it or not, just about every American man old enough to drive wants one. He imagines himself behind the wheel, with the top down and a decorative and adoring blonde passenger-seat cover in place, tearing up the roads like Mario Andretti.
Of course, when you're 65 and look like something found in the wreckage from a mortuary fire, your aspirations are...lower. I'll be writing more about that later.
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