As you might have suspected given my prior post on the topic (The Teutonic Viagra), I have been lusting for the Audi R8. It had caught my eye before seeing Ironman, but its role in that movie cemented its position as my infatuation du moment.

Even though I have another year to go before the lease on my Aston Martin ends, I put my faithfulness to the test by checking the R8 out at the local dealership. As I walked in, its seductive lines immediately caught my attention. Its allure further was further increased by its colors – the same ones as the car in Ironman.

Like the hapless sailors called by the sirens, I approached knowing this path would only lead to adultery, powerless to resist. I apprehensively opened the door. My heart was racing. I sat myself into the seat when it happened. I did not fit! I tried every seating position known to man, but my head was firmly stuck on the roof, my eyes only seeing through the top inch of the windshield.

It never occurred to me I might not fit in an Audi! I can understand that Lamborghinis are made by and for short Italian men (the Gallardo had previously spurned my advances), but an Audi? Sports cars should be able to handle guys who are almost 6’3” even if they have a tall torso!

Belatedly, I realized I had fallen for this wretched flirtatious creature, the one that only brings tension to its peak and then leaves you hanging. Clearly because of the strength of my moral resolve, my marriage was saved. Proud of my achievement, I returned home.

As I was about to give up all hope on lust, there it was again … butterflies in my stomach! William had just sent me sent me an in depth preview of the Ferrari California. The longing was back! My faithful Aston got a reprieve: the California won’t be coming out for at least a year and having been jilted by the prancing horse before, I am more guarded, protecting my heart against the potential of being hurt. And yet deep down, I can feel the hope and longing…

California don’t let me down, I know we would be great together!