counting the cars

on the New Jersey Turnpike... and one of them was a stretch limo, with me inside it: quite ridiculous. Alice was wonderfully kind and ordered a car to meet me at EWR: neither of us had quite anticipated it being the the kind of thing that one might expect to go to a senior prom (or indeed the Oscars) in. What, quite obviously, it lacked was a tripod: balancing the camera on my knee just wasn't good enough. I wish I'd wriggled around more and put it on the shelf above the rattling (empty) champagne glasses.

But this didn't feel like grandeur: quite scarily, it felt like being inside a hearse: black padded leather and shiny stuff, though I doubt they have little tracks of fluorescent green and blue lights down the ceiling, or even bar tending materials and video consoles. They also sway around (maybe hearses do, too, but probably their occupants aren't too troubled). At the end of the ride, I scuttled away from it fast: not at all the kind of thing one wants one's neighbors to see...