The Finch Formerly Known As Gold

2 March 2005

Shot down at the fantasy factory

It doesn't happen too often, but when it does, I get to teeter on the edge of sanity for just a few moments and contemplate things that can't possibly be, before the real world reasserts itself and gives me a dope-slap.

And, well, the circumstances were right: a sunnyish (for March) afternoon, traffic crawling at 25 mph, and in front of me, a beautiful (this is my delusion, and I say she's beautiful, so back off) blonde in a Benz.

Not just any Benz, either; this was the SL55 AMG in Arrest Me Red, the first one of these I've seen in the city, and for a moment I had a flash of "Am I even allowed to drive around here?"

After about two blocks, I'd gotten to the point where we'd negotiated the prenup, and after two blocks more, we were flying to Stuttgart to pick up some AMG accessories Mercedes had unaccountably forgotten to include in the car's $124,020 price.

She veered off after half a mile, which at 25 mph takes longer than you'd think, and I wound up a few blocks later inhaling the diesel fumes from a Metro Transit bus. Back to reality. It is a measure of how serious this was that one of my favorite songs ever — the Walker Brothers' "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine (Anymore)" — had popped onto the stereo and I didn't even notice.

Wherever you are, Lady Benz, thank you, and I promise to keep my distance.

Posted at 6:29 PM to Table for One