The Pretty and the Shiny

I spent a lot of time today shrugging my shoulders and saying "I take the pictures of the pretty shiny things." This was in response to any car question requested of me. Then there was some eyelash fluttering and a smile on my part.

I entered a secret world today. A primarily male word (I'd say 20 to 1 today) where there was talk of "torque" and "horsepower". . . and rear-slip differential being standard. Of press conferences and hype . . . and we have to best, best, bestest cars/trucks/motorized somethings ever. And everything was free. But nothing was free when you needed it. And I need to go to bed so I can do it again tomorrow.

I love my new "George" still. I might have taken some sweet pictures. Hard to tell when you have 400 of them. Smoked a cigar and now smell . . . and feel slightly queasy, but it was worth it to look like a bad ass for twenty minutes. And felt bad for the "car girls" . . . the pretty girls who have to stand in short dresses next to the cars. They were there in high heels at 9 a.m. and still there posing and smiling when I left at 6 p.m. Those girls were troopers.

My card reader is not working, otherwise you might be subjected to a few pictures. More tomorrow, I have to pass out from exhaustion.