I'm currently dog sitting for my good friend Judy. Many of you know Judy's dog, Emma, the greatest dog in the world. This is the first time I'm staying at Judy's new house in Sausalito, a gorgeous place with a ridiculously complete view of the entire Bay Area. Judy should rent this place out as a movie location. Last night, I fell asleep while gazing across the bay at the glittering lights of downtown San Francisco. I cannot describe how fabulous it is. Anyway, Judy, of course, lives in a swanky neighborhood, and twice a day, I get to walk Emma and spy on all the fancy houses.
Judy used to live in Sea Cliff, where my main goal was getting Emma to run onto Robin Williams' property, half a block away. Over time, I got so close to RW, I actually befriended his uber-gay chef. But alas, there are no Oscar winners in Sausalito, at least that I know of. Last night, after a highly productive and fun day at work, Emma and I set off down the street, where I was admiring a massive, Spanish tile estate, with huge bronze scultpures of naked ladies around the exterior.
I'm not normally one to peek in garages, as I leave the gear head crap to my roommate. Obviously, I like fancy things, and the streets here are lines with BMW X5's, which I've decided will be my next car. But, usually, I don't give a shit about engines, horse power, and suspension. Really, had I my druthers, I'd have a car and driver anyway.
But there is one car I adore, a piece of artwork so beautiful and arousing, I've been in it's presence only once before and found it difficult to leave. And there it was before me, in a million dollar garage, and the garage door was opening. The man inside looked up and smiled at Emma and I. I couldn't help myself. I had to speak.
"That's a Vanquish, isn't it?"
He was instantly delighted to discuss his car. "Yes! You have great taste. She's my new baby."
"YOU have great taste." I piped up. "My god, I'm obsessed with the Vanquish. I love that car."
He laughed. "Well, you should get one."
"Yeah. Well, my good taste is wasted on my bad bank account." I kept talking, this poor polite billionaire forced to listen. "I already know what I'll be wearing when I drive my Vanquish around, and I'm delighted to tell you, it involves fur." I ramble on about my fashionista fantasy of speeding around the city in my perfect Vanquish, and Daddy Warbuck's is laughing away. Were he not old, married, and wearing one of those dreadful yachting captain's hats, we'd be engaged by now. Finally, he says, "Well, it's a crime you've never ridden in one. Let's go for a spin."
Stop. Wait a second. Back it up.
Are you shitting me? Go for a spin in the Vanquish? THE Vanquish? Oh my god. Hells yeah. Although, with a stranger? He could be a billionaire serial killer, who speeds away from his body dump sites in the most perfect car ever made. Am I willing to risk life and limb for a joy ride in a car I know I'll own one day anyway? What kind of person offers a stranger a ride in their "baby"? We've been talking for a mere 3 minutes. As usual, I begin to find him exceedingly creepy. Why doesn't he watch Emma, while I take to Vanquish for a little spin...to Tiajuana.
Years of the DARE program are pumping through my veins. I cannot get in a car with a stranger. Even into a Vanquish. Some kids are lured by candy. Some by puppies. As a child, you coulda kidnapped me by offering me an hour with the Bergdorf Goodman Christmas catalog. But no longer. I'm now a highly paranoid gal who watches way too many episodes of Forensic Files.
"You have no idea how much I'd love to go for a spin, but we're about a mile from home and Emma and I should get back."
"Fair enough" he says. "Anytime, though. Swing on by. I love to show her off."
"I bet. Seriously. That's a beautiful car."
He shakes my hand, tells me he'll see me at the film festival, and reiterates his offer for a ride anytime. Then, he goes back to arranging his garage, filled by the way, with hundereds of boxes of wine. This is my kinda guy.
So today, I'm going to go plant myself in front of this guy's place, and wait for him to show. I'll sit there all day if I have to. I cannot believe I was so paranoid as to turn down a spin in a Vanquish. Even if he killed me, at least I'd die in style. My god, what a way to go out.
I'm going to name my kid Aston Martin Spotswood, I love that car so much.