I have never taken any interest in fancy cars. Up until this weekend I would have been completely satisfied driving a nice reliable Toyota Camry or Honda for the rest of my days.
But then I met, touched, smelled and sat in a $5 million dollar one of a kind bright red antique Pegaso and everything in my life was turned upside down.
In order to bring wealthy traffic into the new apparel store associated with the textile company my sister works for, they organized a vintage car show on the grounds of the store on Elizabeth Street in Nolita (north of little italy) and invited fancy car people to schmooze, have a cocktail or two and check out some one of a kind cars. My sister added me and a few friends to the list and I thought, why not. I can use a cocktail or two. Plus I rarely turn down an opportunity to pretend I’m fancy.
The second I sat in the vintage Mercedes with doors that open vertically I realized I had made a huge mistake. I had never felt so fabulous in my life – the kind of fabulous Greta Garbo, Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant must have felt when waking up in the morning. A dangerous kind of fabulous for someone such as myself to feel, even for a moment. The two cocktails I had before getting in the car definitely didn’t help with my perception of reality, but I’ve had cocktails before and this was a different feeling all together. It was an, I can really truly do anything…feeling. An, I deserve to own this car…feeling.
I believe it is better not ever experiencing this level of fabulous if it’s not sustainable. The world where a 2000 Lexus my dad handed down to me was as luxury as I ever felt the desire to get is a safer world for me to be in. But that world no longer exists. I have seen too much and there is no turning back.