The showroom guards will probably require my Dunn & Bradstreet rating, a blood sample, genealogy, character references from the captains of industry who recently received humongous payouts from the government, and a note from Harry Winston.
I suppose I should wear shoes when I present myself, and perhaps the pelts of dead animals, artfully arranged to look as if they grew on me, Van Cleef & Arpels diamonds dripping from my earlobes, wrists, and hanging between my boobs, which I might add are my own. No plastic has been hurt in the making of this product.
The company logo seems to represent the Golden Calf, which in Biblical times symbolized a system of worship. This strikes me as incredibly blatant, but realistic. It's hard to be subtle when you're driving a vehicle worth more than a million smackeroos. ("Smackeroo" means both "dollar" and "kiss", which I also find disturbing.)
The Lamborghini is apparently the least fuel efficient vehicle on the market, but that is very likely of no concern to those who can afford one. Nor does the maker produce enough of them to cause emission problems on the highway.
The company was started in 1963 in a little town near Bologna, Italy, by Ferruccio Lamborghini, a manufacturer of tractors. I'm guessing he was tired of testing vehicles in stinking fields strewn with cow-pies and needed a change of pace.
Lamborghini was an enthusiastic owner of sports cars including Mercedes-Benz, Jaguar, Maserati and Ferrari. He eventually owned three Ferraris, all of which had recurring clutch problems. He complained to Enzo Ferrari, who stated derisively that a tractor maker was not qualified to criticize his cars. The gauntlet was thrown down. Lamborghini began to repair the clutches himself and noticed that some of their components were exactly the same as those he used on his tractors. Encouraged, he commissioned several of the top auto designers in the world to build a car that would rival Ferrari. The result would eventually become the Lamborghini 350GT, and a new company was born in the process. Its fortunes have waxed and waned over the years and it is presently owned by Volkswagen Group. The people's car.
I should probably just go for the chocolate, Diabetes be damned. The folks behind the counter at the Godiva store have never asked for my pedigree, and there is also no dress code. Sometimes they even throw in a freebie. And if I eat enough of it, I can probably run all the way home without my car. It doesn't get any more fuel efficient than that.
28 comments:
I feel that way about Hummers. Bing is just....crabby as all get out that I even LIKE these gas guzzlers. But, I LOVE the idea of driving in a car that can tell a snow storm to shove it.
My thoughts, in descending order of importance:
1) Kudos on your natural breasts.
2) Go for the chocolate. The memory of its pleasure will last as long as the memory of a test drive. In truth, during college, I let one guy test drive me, and twenty years later, I don't even remember my name. But I do remember I had a Snickers later that night.
3) You've now planted the idea of taking a car for a test drive as a diverting boondoggle. It would never have occurred to me otherwise!
Oh, to be able to edit a comment. I do mean "his name" for the college fling.
Occasionally, when I'm staring directly at my driver's license, I remember my own name.
You forgot the retina scan they will also ask for.
Okay give me a minute to get over Jocelyn's hysterical Freudian slip...
So one of the ultimate luxury sportscars is owned by the People's Car? What a rich irony. But me, I still refer chocolate. Maybe we real-breasted women just need chocolate.
Yea Hearts go for the chocolate, you can always increase the insulin shot...but a car whether at a million bucks or a hundred is just more shit that breaks down, ever in need of costly repair.
You did notice I am not making a comment on your boobs... which is also one of those words with duality of meaning.
i like the walking man went with duality of meaning, meaning for each boob.
Even though my boobs are natural also (no plastic or salt water here) I can suggest the following:
take your car down Lombardi street as fast as you dare and it will feel like you're driving a Lamborghini. You could drive a Yugo down that street and it would feel like a race car driving through a chicane.
(as for the chocolate, I could recommend the violet, rose, and dark chocolate bar from Mark's & Spencer's. It costs more that the gas you'd burn driving down Lombardi street, though.)
Go for the chocolate! I've hated sportscars ever since my father's (mid-life) MG. They're too low. You have to squat in. No thanks.
Don't like SUVs or trucks, either. Too high! You have to climb up into them.
Whatever happened to the four-door sedan, like I have?
But I do like the idea of test driving as entertainment.
Please just go for the chocolates. It worries me to think of you wearing animal pelts over your all natural dual meaning boobs......I mean, it could end up being my pelt!
Don't get mad at me for saying but I always thought Lamborghinis and Feraris(don't check my spelling) were pretty tacky. For the money I'd rather have a fast BMW or Mercedes. They make a statement without being loud. I read somewhere that chocolate has certain chemicals that are similar to the ones that a woman's body releases when she has an orgasm. In tiny amounts, mind you, but still. Maybe that's why we love chocolate so much. I imagine a car may do the same for some but I prefer the Godiva counter to a tacky old car any day....
You come up with such interesting historical notes! I love that Mr. Tractor-Maker Lamborghinni called Mr. Ferrari's bluff! But I'd go with the chocolate for a blissful way of dealing with stress!
Maria,
Love is not logical. But a vehicle that can withstand 90 feet of snow is.
Jocelyn,
I'm here to help. Wanna come? Let's see what that baby will do.
It's so accommodating that they put your name right on the license, and even your age, in case you forget. Sometimes I wonder who the chick in the photo is, though.
Meno
Oh, right. And the combination to my safe. (If I had a safe. I don't even have an UNsafe.)
Citizen,
I thought Jocelyn was referring to her husband, and was intrigued and envious that he had kept her in such a state for so long.
Yes, Hitler's people's car owns the ultimate fine Italian hand car. Isn't that bizarre?
Mark,
I'm not Diabetic, just planning ahead.
How many boobs does it take to sit in a Lamborghini?
Van,
What about the circus lady who has three?
Bob,
Thanks for clearing up the mystery about your boobs. I've always wondered.
You can't go very fast down the curly part of Lombard St. without going wheels-up on someone's lawn. Maybe I'll try it on my bicycle, though.
Marks & Spencer's makes yummy chocolate.
Cecil,
I think SUV's are absurd, especially in cities. I like the handling aspect of sports cars, probably because I was never allowed to drive my father's, but our only car now is a 4-door Toyota Camry. Boring but reliable.
Calvin,
Calm down, it's going to be ok. I don't wear animals, I adopt them.
Sweet Pea,
Chocolate releases endorphins, which give that ecstatic feeling.
I'm not really into making a wealth statement, but I love to drive and want to try something that roars.
Molly,
It makes me wonder how many products were created to assuage angry feelings. I'm sure that many books would fall into that category as the best revenge is often thinly-veiled fiction.
I say, do both. You only go round once!
Warts,
You are a woman after my heart. I love your attitude.
If you come to DC, I have a client who is invited to drive both Lamb. and Masseratis periodically. We can stop at the Godiva Store or the Chocolate Shoppe on the way down to Bethesda for the test drive. We will have to change our names, temporarily.
I did drive a Masseratti in 1973. Heavenly. My ex-partner has a Porsche 911. Wonderful. Let me know ahead of time, please.
Too hard, the decision of a car comes down to personal taste. Me - I like my car - a CRV with a sunroof. I open up the roof and sing my heart out.
Monty,
CHANGE OUR NAMES?! What kind of bidnizz are you in, exactly? I want to test drive one, not steal it.
The Porsche 911 Carrera is actually my favorite car. Boxsters don't appeal to me as much. (Guess I have cheap taste.)
Rhubarb,
Sunroofs are good. So is singing. Sounds like a winner to me!
Simple, the invitation, to my very rich client, is in her and her husband's name. They can't drive a stick shift, and have offered it to me several times, including going with me if I wish. They really like me as I do a very good job for them! You and I do not have that name. To use the invitation to drive the car......
The Porsche is a lot of fun, and handles really well. I wouldn't eat bon bons while driving, but while a passenger, definitely.
Monty,
I can drive a stick shift. Let me in, Coach, I can play.
Just the one boob who paid that much to sit in it Hearts.
Mark,
Good point. I appreciate a fine car, but beyond wheels, chassis and a really good engine, how different can they be?
I think you should do both. Why limit yourself?
I'd go for a test drive as well; I have an unquenchable hunger for high speeds (and by speed I mean velocity, not drugs).
I think you should also check out companies that will let you fly jets as the co-pilot. We have one out here in Colorado Springs. You pay a pretty penny and get to go up in a jet with retired Navy pilots and do the Top Gun ride for real. Almost. No guns, of course.
*grin* wouldn't that be awesome!
Scarlett & Viaggiatore
Scarlett,
I'm a reformed auto racer, but planes still give me a thrill. As you know, I took a few flying lessons in college before my parents cut off all funds.
I can tell you've partaken of the Top Gun ride, but am pretty sure the retired Navy guy was YOUR co-pilot.
Only in my mind... *GRIN*
S & V
Scarlett,
Your modesty, while charming, is not that convincing.
Cars leave me quite cold. I just want a vehicle that goes, with minimum fuss or bother. How it looks is neither here nor there.
The thought of running off the energy produced by the chocolate made me laugh- which is my version of exercise!
Meggie,
Yes, eating chocolate is the most lovely exercise imaginable. The running is optional.
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