She was black and looked very sporty, even with that black soft-top. Those who know me well would have guessed right at the start, that I was talking about a car. And with a soft-top she would be a convertible. But she wasn't just any convertible, she was the Porsche Boxster. Now I doubt if I can call her a "she" as Porsche makes sporty-looking, macho cars. But then, every guy loves a Porsche... I guess, that makes them feminine.
Anyway, continuing with the story, the kid driving that car seemed younger than me and had a frown on his face (possibly from the previous night's hangover). And he suddenly floored the accelerator (or maybe just flicked his ankle a little) and off he went away... couldn't even catch a glimpse of it in the rear-view mirror. That definitely must have brought a smile to his face.
Now, there is only a thin line that differentiates the good from the bad, competitiveness from jealousy, dreams from desires - And a Porsche makes you want to cross that line. Currently I am desparate for a Porsche and am ready to do anything. Somebody tell me what to do.
simple re...wait outside the house, and when the car is abt to leave,,jump in front of it..Make sure he's not going too fast,,otherwise he'll just kill u..
ReplyDeletewhen he gets out, boink him on the head,,and off u go with the porsche!!!
it works in every movie!!!
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ReplyDeletetrue, but its movies... In real life, it could have one of the two consequences - one, he cares only as much as if his shoe-lace was stolen or two, he calls his minister uncle, who calls Manmohan Singh, who calls Sonia Gandhi, who calls Y.S.R., who calls the Police Commissioner, who calls the Local S.I., who calls traffic constable and I'm caught - all before I reach the end of the lane. And you know which is more likelier.
ReplyDeleteSo I would rather live to dream about driving a Porsche one day than actually driving it and then living to regret it.