So I take a flight to LAX, carrying a Sanders colonial buttercream cake 2500 miles to my sister for her birthday, endure the egg salad sandwich and ranch dressing smells of my travelling neighbors, read many pages of the worst book I've read in a long time, wait in line at Hertz for half an hour, get to the counter and the guy says "How would you like a Mustang?" "Umm...... ok.......... What color is it?" "Red." "Ok." Weird. I never imagined myself driving a muscle car, but for a week in California, what the heck?
Sunday, February 11, 2007
my sweet ride
So I take a flight to LAX, carrying a Sanders colonial buttercream cake 2500 miles to my sister for her birthday, endure the egg salad sandwich and ranch dressing smells of my travelling neighbors, read many pages of the worst book I've read in a long time, wait in line at Hertz for half an hour, get to the counter and the guy says "How would you like a Mustang?" "Umm...... ok.......... What color is it?" "Red." "Ok." Weird. I never imagined myself driving a muscle car, but for a week in California, what the heck?
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