Merry early Christmas, Steven!
Ha. Kidding. (We actually bought the lime green one, not this one.)
Ha! Kidding again. But man if this isn't a fun place to visit. Its right by our house, and I'd never been. Steven's been, though. He had a friend who bought a car here a while back. Not one of these cool flat ones with the funky doors ("Its a Lamborghini, Heather," says Steven), but more of a classic sedan. The one with the trident on the front grill. (Steven says, "Maserati Quattroporte." Yeah. That.)
The goal is to act like you could be anybody -- a trust fund kid, an heiress, the kid of some Trump-esque business person. Walk in there like you've seen a hundred Ferraris before.
I tried, really I did, tried to fit in and look like I could be a potential buyer of a six-figure car. And right when I thought it was working, right when I thought I'd perfected my strut, the nice lady at the counter asked me if I'd like a souvenir.
"We've got free glossy photos right here, dear. You can take one if you want."
So much for looking like I wasn't a tourist. I think I may have been detracting from my pseudo-wealthy-girl act with the camera stuck in my face and my jaw dropping to the floor. :)
Speaking of cameras... here she is. (You can also kinda see my new cut and highlights in this pic. Just a wee peek.)
Also, Pringles has a public service announcement for all of you: He would officially like to be left alone so that he can get some sleep, please. He has some very important work to attend to, including barking at each and every person who walks past our front door, as well as diligently guarding his food bowl every time Steven gets up from the couch. (Because we all know Steven secretly wants to eat that kibble right up.)
Its hard out there for a Yorkie.