Lambo

I've found that using 'I can't do that tomorrow, I'm driving a Lamborghini.' as an excuse is very satisfying, especially when it's true. Last week, with my dad and friends we went and participated in a super car driving experience.  It was about five minutes of driving bliss.  The track was set up in a parking lot, which doesn't sound glamorous, but they packed in as many turns as possible.  And when you're in a Lamborghini, that's what matters.   Although, I would have liked to drive it in a straight line for a longer time, just to see how fast I could brave.  It is a powerful car.  So powerful that when I did get to punch it on the straight, the speed pushed me back in the seat and my foot slightly off of the pedal. 
If you're wondering, it was an automatic, or had stupid flappy paddle shifters.  I did a lap and a half with the paddles before the guy asked me if I wanted to switch.  "I don't know.  How am I doing?"  "No so well."  As he offered no advice for improvement, I switched to automatic and drove with abandon.  "How much is this car worth, anyway?"  I asked as I navigated through a serpentine (badly.)  "Um, about 220."  my copilot replied coolly.  "Oh, my!"  I said as a punched the accelerator.  After all, it's not my car.