Friday, October 31, 2008

Le Grand Marquis

by Andrew

With the NYSE now known as the laughing-stock exchange and airfares more expensive than most homes in the country, we decided to drive to Miami for our flight to Panama. That required a rental car capable of holding the luggage needed for a five-month trip (one suitcase for Louise, Graham, and I, and 17 for our 51-pound princess). This did not pose a significant problem, since the high cost of gas means that the rental companies are sitting on fleets of idle behemoths.

We drew a Grand Marquis, which is French for 51-foot cabin cruiser. The car was W-I-D-E. I like to rest my elbow on the door armrest when I drive, but I couldn't even reach it. In the back seat, the children eyed each other across an enormous no-man's land. I thought that the extra space might actually eliminate the need for fighting back there. I am an extremely stupid man, however. Within two minutes, the children had--much like Germans--attempted to take over the vast expanse of land between them. Only after I had waved my hand threateningly over an area that I assume was Poland did peace take hold. At that point, Graham took a closer look at his surroundings. "This is a car for fat people," he pronounced. We were off.

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