The Fast & Furious Frou!

Last weekend, I got a taste of what it feels like to be a speed racing babe. :P

I was hanging out with my gang down at a Heineken event in KL where we were celebrating Merdeka Day over a couple of beer and noisy house music. I was kind of overdressed for the event because earlier, I had to go for a fancy schmancy restaurant for my (yet another) birthday dinner. (Toe is right. My birthday celebration is a like a month long Indian wedding!) So there I was in my little black dress, heels, dainty purse and slut shoes - looking out of place amongst the young ones in their scanty disco outfits.

Anyhow, we grew bored after an hour or two of watching the kids bop up and down in a drunken stupor so we decide to drag our old folks' ass back to Motherhen's house for a quiet chill-out session. I grabbed the last 2 unfinished bottles of Heineken and just as I was heading towards Phillip's car, Motherhen clucked at me and ask me to sit in his car instead because he drove there alone.

So I reverse my steps and head towards his car, which turns out to be a brand new Lotus.

I am not a car enthusiast but I must admit that this is a pretty impressive looking machine. More so, I noticed that the car park attendant was all over us at the parking lot. He was calling Motherhen "Boss" and fussing all over him, me ("Missus") and of course, the car. When Motherhen announced that he has to manually take the top down, the head car attendant quickly whistled at his minion to come and help. Minion also help take the beer bottles off me and even guide me to my seat.

I stood and stare at the passenger seat door. I didn't know where the door knob is! (Motherhen: "Why are you fiddling with the air vent?") Minion quickly rush over and deftly open the same for me (he must have had lots of experience finding door knobs on fancy cars!)

Next, I look at my passenger seat and frown. I had initially wanted to be a lady of grace and poise and to enter the car like a temptress sliding into her nest. But the problem is, the car is very low and the passenger seat is very deep and the only elegant way to get in is by "hopping" in (with precision so that you don't fall onto the car floor!) Think gangster movie-style where the runaway rebel jumps over the car door, plonk into the seat and drive away swiftly. Unfortunately, I am in my gu niang dress and slutty shoes so jumping is not an option. (I am also no Gisele Bundchen in the movie "Taxi"!)

So I decided to execute my rock climbing moves and to "climb" into the car instead. I had to hold on to the top of the windscreen, high step and slide my right feet into the car, shift my body weight to my right foot, balance and then slide my other feet in. Not too bad except my dress was riding up my thighs, my non-existent cleavage showing and I plonked a little too hard on my ass when I release my arm tension. (UGLINESS!)

Next, I arrange myself in the seat. The floor length is huge so I was able to stretch my entire length of leg like a F1 driver. I plonked my dainty bag on the floor, buckled up and told Motherhen I am ready to roll. Then I suddenly remembered that I had just done my hair that evening and all that top-down wind blowing thingamajig is going to ruin it! I squealed bimbotically at that thought and Motherhen kindly offered me a cap - and I squealed even more because helmet hair is worst than wind-blown haired! At least with the latter, I have an even chance of looking like Farrah Fawcett. (Worse case scenario is looking like Whoppi Goldberg!)

As Motherhen reverse out of the lot, our car park attendant continue smiling and waving to us. Then it occur to me that since Motherhen drove there alone, he is probably thinking that I am some slut chick that Motherhen randomly picked up from the bar to bring home! Some more not a very elegant one (bad climbing-into-car stance and beer bottles???) The humiliation!

All that aside, the ride was actually very fun. Apparently Motherhen had taken lessons from an ex- F1 driver before so he is proficient in speed and maneuvering on busy roads. So we were diving in and out between cars and revving up on empty stretches of road. The sound of the engine roaring and everyone else on the road giving way kinda gives a power trip. I can now understand why guys get hooked on such adrenaline! (And yes, I was holding on to my hair all throughout.)

At one point, Motherhen's phone rang and he pulled over the side of the road to answer. Unfortunately he pulled over at a busy sidewalk where a few dozen people were waiting for taxis after the Merdeka celebration. All of them turned and stared at us, naturally. Again, I had the feeling that I am part of a cliché storyline - rich spoilt tycoon driving his money-hungry chick around in a fancy car. I slink into my seat and nudged Motherhen to quickly move on.

More vroom vrooming later, we finally reach his house in one piece. Phillip was waiting for us at the parking lot (it wasn't that his Perodua is faster but we took the longer way!) and the first thing he asks me was, "How? Got feel like Devon Aoki or not?"

Got!