The lap of Luxury just stood up!

Today I was in the lap of luxury--for approximately 3 hours. I had three meetings to attend in Oklahoma City and had to rent a car to get my caboose to the capital. I went through Thrifty Rental because they rented Chrysler Pacifica's and I really want to drive one of those babies--I love the way they look.
My meeting was on Monday mid-morning. Since we are down to one car I felt I needed to rent one so Teensy and the boys could have a ride if Kendra needed it. I really struggled and strained to muster up the nerve to ask someone to pick me up and take me to the airport to rent my car. I thought if i rented it last night i would be able to get up and get on the road first thing this morning. Our Youth Minister was willing to oblige and hauled me to the airport.
Airports are really quite scary places at night. Our airport is relatively small although not tiny, but no O'Hare. As I was dropped off at the Rental Car return and made my way toward what I thought was the right way I finally found the rental booth. That's where I met Clara.
Clara had been working a very long shift and had her sleeves rolled up, hair in a pony tail and looked like she had been standing in front of a fan, a very windy fan. She was one of those people who looked at you over her glasses, which were in serious need of cleaning. Most likely diggin out lost pencils in her mustup hair. "May I help you?" "Yes ma'am I'm here to rent--"; "Name? " Clara was in no mood for joviality or hospitality for that matter. Clearly she needed to sneak back to the back and pour a cup of Diet Dr. Thunder in the Sonic cup she brings to work everyday so she won't have to pay for the sodas at work. After giving her all of the information she needed she said, "We are all out of the cars you requested and only have the following cars available...." Crap! I only rented from your throw-back agency because I wanted the Pacifica. "We have a 300 M with all leather--very nice and luxurious." "I'm all for nice and very ready to sign up for luxurious. "Ok...is there an additional charge?" "Yes, $8 I can't upgrade for free you know." "Well you don't have my car so--" "SIR, we can't upgrade to that level without me getting fired. It's $8" I smiled calmly. There will be some day that I rip into people like that and take them out, but I will have to have some serious mind altering trauma for that to occur. "OK, I'll take the 300M for $8 additional."
This car was a beauty! The outside color was a blue/gray called magnesium, just beautiful. The interior was the color of white mocha! Heaven! As I sat in the car I noticed that my head did not scrape the roof as it does in my cracker box. The seats were supple, butter soft leather--the color of a white mocha! The car had that new car with leather smell fully uncorrupted by the pipe smoking, sweaty, executives that will be flatulating in this dream machine next go round. Poor undeserving luxurious coach, why should it live out it's life in the rented burrows of haphazard executives out for blood. Loved that new car smell.
As I drove out of the airport I realized that I really should live the lifestyle that makes these cars a reality--I'm destined for the lap of luxury, but it always stands up. For me this was a 24 hour rental and an hour and a half drive each way. I would only be in the lap of luxury for 3 hours before it would stand up.
This morning I got in the dream machine picked up my White Mocha and sipped my fancy coffee in my rented swanky luxurious roadster. This is the life--not the life I normally live but the life of someone who clearly doesn't appreciate that they have it so good. I called Mildred to report on this dream machine and just grab onto someone who could connect with the state of bliss I was enjoying. Even though she was sickly she grabbed on--with one hand.
I felt subconscious at several points throughout the three hour tour and had moments when I wanted to roll down the window and say, "This is a rental I don't really own a car like this although I would love too" That would be awkward though so I just let them think what I thought they were thinking and moved on.
When you are sipping white mocha's and cruising in the lap of luxury you don't really know how fast you are going. I realized I was going 90 miles an hour! I needed to slow down. On the way home I was cruising back to reality and wishing the counter lady would just award me this car for pain and suffering, but that was a pipe dream--which I really like pipe dreams. As I approached a fairly congested wad of cars I noticed that a trooper was also cruising home. The cruiser and I were neck and neck, but I was not about to pass the trooper. Something inside me just says, "don't" and I don't. I was trying not to pass him and at the same time trying not to act like I was trying not to pass him. That's when he rolled down his window and waved me on around him. "Me...shooed away by a trooper? It must be the luxurious roadster." In my reality, car I would have been pulled over and tazered for obstructing the flow of traffic.
I bid my brief touch with the luxury lifestyle adieu, stepping out of the crisp clean car and back into reality. My tiny, boxy import will haul me from hither to yawn in cramped economy. I have tasted freedom and cannot be the same. Yes, the lap of luxury is soft and comfortable, but when that jerk stands up the fall back to reality is hard and fast. Now the smell of stale french fries and sour milk will nail me against the wall of reality and hold me prisoner until my next brush with an $8 upgrade from an over worked underpaid airport rental employee named Clara.