Thank God for fake Louis Vuitton bags. My friend has examined mine and has heartily proclaimed it's passability as the real thing, ranking it a B+. Well, that purse is going to be put to the test on Friday when I do the adventure I pulled out of the bowl this week:"Test Drive The Car of Your Dreams."
Oh, IT'S ON! It's totally going to be a red convertible Porsche. Although now that I have grown a second butt, I am a little nervous about having to squish down into the low seat. What if the salesman needs some kind of jaws-of-life to get me out? That would not so good.
I'm putting together my plan of action. I know I can't just roll into a Porsche dealership in my Target sweats. I need to wear something sophisticated and cute (and made with a little stretch fabric for the squishing down into low seats). I might have to borrow something... from Bloomingdales.
Then there is the issue of my current car. My current car is a red Jeep Wrangler. It's old. I would tell you how many miles it has but the odometer broke about a year ago. So did the speed gauge, gas gauge, oil gauge and water gauge. And it only has one working seat belt. It basically a death machine on wheels.
And it's SO not the sort of car you drive up to a Porsche dealership in that makes ANYONE ever believe you could afford a Porsche. Or a Porsche mug.
I'll have to park it around the corner.
Wish me luck!
This blog is dedicated to wind blown hair.
