Keriosity

Almost two years ago, I wrote about my experience driving and subsequently purchasing a Lamborghini. I mentioned that even though I enjoy a little speedy competition on the road, I did not share my husband’s car-themed psychosis. Well a lot has changed since then.

I sold my beloved BMW M3 in favor of a car with a manual transmission to force myself to learn to drive stick. The new car had to give me enough incentive to get behind the wheel, since I can pretty much walk anywhere I need to go. A Porsche 911 Cabriolet was a good incentive.

I liked driving stick so much that I purchased a second car with 100 more horsepower, without consulting my husband first.

I learned that, even in the year 2006, male car dealers don’t treat female customers with respect. Even after said female customer drives the 425hp V8 limited-production car better than they do.

I went on a 7-day illegal cross-country road race and learned that a giggle and a smile can get you out of at least 7 tickets. I also learned that a fast-driving airhead in a miniscule outfit gets attention, but a fast-driving chick in sweats and a baseball cap gets respect.

I drove on the track at Pocono Raceway, Las Vegas Motor Speedway, and the California Speedway and experienced that some male drivers underestimate, if not dismiss, female drivers.

I drag-raced on the most famous drag strip in the country, which is in Great Bend Kansas and learned that you can’t judge your opponent’s car by appearance alone. A broken-up taxicab with a subtle NOS sticker on the back is pretty much going to kick your ass. (NOS= Nitrous Oxide System, for those of you who don’t know. I didn’t.)

I drove every new model of BMW at the California Speedway and discovered the joy of spinning around a skid pad in someone else’s car.

This past Friday, I spent all day driving a Ferrari on the track at Pocono Raceway, and I learned that even a seasoned racing instructor can get scared sometimes (hey, you have to scare the instructor once.) I think I’ve contracted my husband’s psychosis. And I like it.

I’m afraid I may have crossed over to the dark side.

As most of you know, my husband has a rather unhealthy affinity for cars which I do not share. I won’t go into the details of how this manifests itself in our daily lives because, frankly, I don’t think it’s proper for a spouse to reveal such things outside of a setting that includes both a sofa and an impressive collection of books by Freud, Jung, and Maslow. Suffice it to say I find myself being inundated with talk of cars, performance specs, performance parts and upgrades, industry gossip, photographs, video clips and the like - usually prefaced with an excited “Here, check this out!”or “Hey, what do you think of this?” and I could not be less interested. Really.

For my part, I have honed the art of acting just interested enough without being exactly encouraging nor disapproving. This is a hard line to walk, and I am very proud of how few times I have lost the balance. There are definite areas in which I put my foot down - for example: no yellow cars. Until recently, COST was the other foot-putting-down issue which I have been steadfast about.

Then we went to the Lamborghini dealer.

Here is some background: Since moving, Emil has been searching for a new car for himself. His 9-year old Ferrari is begging to be retired to a person who will only drive it on the weekends to Crystal Cove and back, so there is a need for a replacement. I have quietly accepted the fact that any car he buys at this point will throw me way off my well-crafted and maintained line - so rather than lose the battle, I’ve decided to just go with it and secretly plot to use how cool I’m being to my advantage in the future.

Being the cool wife that I am, I went with Emil to the Lamborghini dealer to look at a Gallardo: a car I had been consistently calling “ugly” for several months now. The Gallardo in question is blue. I like the blue. It’s pretty. But the interior is also blue. That’s a foot-putting-down thing with me - I really dislike colored leather interior.

…Deep breaths. It’s going to be ok. The worse the car, the cooler you are…

I sat in it and felt very claustrophobic. This might be a deal-breaker. I can be cool about blue leather, but if I vomit on it - that’s not cool. We decided that a test drive was in order because maybe when the car is in motion, I won’t feel so claustrophobic.

The dealer took me out in the car. We had a pleasant little drive. A few minutes into it, I looked at him and said “Um. This is nice, but could you maybe drive faster?”

He furrowed his brow. “Are you sure because-”

”Yeah I’m sure - you can really drive.”

“Ok, because sometimes people tell me I can drive fast and then they get scared and hold on.” I just laughed. Oh silly man.

“Look, if I start holding on - you can back off. I have to know what it’s going to be like when Emil drives, because he’s going to drive the snot out of this thing,” I said. He just grinned. And then he gunned it.

It has taken me forever to finish this blog because I have been trying to find the correct way to describe my experience driving the Lamborghini. (yes, he let me drive it) Sure I could detail my galloping heartbeat, holding my breath, stifling back the inner “HELL YEAH BITCHES!” - but so cliche, no? I could have taken another approach and written a sexy little paragraph with naughty double-entendres for your interpretation because really - driving this car was HOT and I did feel like a little hottie driving it.

But I think you all know enough about my thought patterns at this point to expect a little more of a real reaction from me. Truly, after the racing heart, inner swearing, and getting a little hot & bothered, my real thoughts were “This is probably the closest I will ever come to feeling like Jane Jetson!” because I think this car might become the inspiration for the everyman’s hovercraft in 2050. Although Jane could fit way more shopping bags in her space car than will fit in the Lambo, whose trunk will fit about one box of Jimmy Choos. Strappy heels, not boots.

Getting back to the dealer, I had the biggest grin on my face - and it wasn’t just from the g-forces pulling my cheeks back. It was a genuine “ok, I get it now” smile. Emil walked over and I was completely off my game. I did the unthinkable. I actually said “We need to get this car.”

…HUH? Get ahold of yourself, woman! That is no way to maintain the line…

Surely I could have thought of a more subtle and manipulative way to allow the purchase of this car without appearing to approve so wholeheartedly - let alone have it be MY idea! Years of honing the art of disinterested interest and I blow it all after a 5 minute 100mph ride in an ugly car that is obviously also evil.

On a side note - this little slip in composure came in handy two days ago when I was at the gas station with my M3. Some loser came over to me and said “Did you pick this car out all by yourself?”

I rolled my eyes. “I did.”

“I’m impressed!” he said flirtatiously.

“Yeah? You should see the Gallardo I picked out that’s at home.” I coldly shot back.

He was taken aback but inquired with a sly grin “Well, why is it at home?!”

“Because when I take it out, MORE ass-holes like you talk to me.” (they make it so easy)

I hope I enjoy my new place on the dark side. Emil seems to like it just fine. I think we will be eating nothing but popcorn and spam for the next two years, but man our car’s gonna be hot!

Top 10 Things I Miss About NY (other than friends and family.) Not in any particular order.

1. Good Pizza
2. Restaurants that stay open past 10pm, and those that deliver.
3. Fast thinking, fast acting, fast walking. (laid back is nice and all, but some of us have to be somewhere…well not really, YET, but I will soon!)
4. Liberal use of the F word. (I feel like a truck driver in a kindergarten class.)
5. The lack of bugs in my old apartment. (ants, ants everywhere around here. ooo and spiders. and a cricket inside! and a grasshopper touched my toe outside! I’d take 1 occasional amazonian roach out on the sidewalk in NYC than facing bugs every day.)
6. The knowledge that if I leave something of mine unattended while I run inside my home for a second, it WILL get taken. I don’t like this uncertainty. (Can I leave my purse in the car while I run in the house for a second? Probably. What probably? Yes or No?! Can I trust my neighbors or can’t I? I just wanna know either way!)
7. Good Bagels.
8. Not knowing the caloric/carb/fat breakdown of everything I order from any take out place. I’m beginning to get a complex.
9. Not having to walk the dog every 20 minutes. (Milhous was wee-wee pad trained in NY and we had NO carpets, which are his preferred excretorial substrate. Here, even the bathrooms have carpeting.)
10. Don’t tell Emil this one. Noise. (God I never thought I’d hear myself say that. I never thought it would be quiet enough to hear myself say that.)

Top 10 Things I Am Enjoying In CA. Also in no particular order.

1. Good Mexican Food
2. Walking Milhous after dark and seeing the scores of bunnies on the grass outside.
3. Driving. (especially after beating Emil this morning in the BMW. He was driving the ferrari. He can say he didn’t expect me to race him and all, but it was an open road. He should have caught up.)
4. Palm trees. I love palm trees. Actually, all the vegetation - there are flowers everywhere, everything is green. It’s gorgeous!
5. Nice people.
6. Sunshine and plenty of it!
7. This:

   

8. Meeting friends for an afternoon beer at bars on the beach.
9. Having coffee and cereal on the patio most mornings.
10. Catching glimpses of the ocean as I drive around.