I've been noticing lately that there seems to be an increase in "ad" cars. Ok, so the increase is a mere three or four, which is quite a jump from the periodic one I used to see on the road. Ad cars are vehicles that are moving billboards. They range from the subtle, whole body plastered with an advertised product, to the giant energy drink can rigged to the back of a mini-pick-up. These aren't your everyday business vehicles with the company logo on the sides--no--these are full blown advertisments that drive around in traffic alongside you and me. Have you seen them?
So, we're going to a band contest way up north, and we spot one of these cars. It was a boxy car, kinda like a Scion with some product name and picture all over it. It must not have been too impressive because I cannot even remember what the product was, I only remember thinking that maybe that's the route for me. Drive around (which I do a LOT) and advertise some product for cash (which I need a LOT). Sounds easy enough.
We get into this big discussion about if it is embarrassing to drive something like that. Is it weird to have everyone looking at you, reading your bumpers? Is it a "look at me" kinda thing? How much money do you think you get? Do you have to drive a specific amount each week, 'cuz I think I've got that covered about a hundred times over. And what product do you advertise? Do you have to believe in the product or do you just plaster your car with anything to make some cash? Hmmmmm...........got me thinking.
Everyone was thinking what they would sell on their car. Em's doing make-up or clothes. Caroline was doing perfume or something girly. Joe was thinking something silly, like Sports Illustrated or something--he wouldn't say. I think of mine right away and yell at the top of my lungs "Svedka!", which kind of quiets everybody. Svedka Vodka is my favorite. Not that I'm this huge boozer, but man, if I have a product I love (other than my Oreck vacuum), it's Svedka Vodka. I've learned by trial and error, there is no vodka like Svedka for my favorite, lemon drop martinis.
We did a little research one late night in Kentucky. There was the usual gang--Fain, Michelle, Joe, Cheri, Tammy, Pat, Margaret, me, a couple of stray kids--and we were all hanging out drinking lemon drops that Joe was making ('cept the kids). Mmmmm, he makes them really strong. We sit around for a few hours, pounding the double martinis down and soon I realize that I'm not seeing so well. Oh sure, they are good, but they kinda affect the vision after about 2 or 3, so I have to be careful. A black dress appears from somewhere and there is all this talk about who's wearing it and when. Next thing I know, somebody's got the thing around their neck. I'm still not sure why this dress was being passed around, but it was. I think it had something to do with the double martinis, but hey, we were having some laughs.
Cheri's husband, tired of watching the little guy all day, bails early and heads off to bed. Not that he could sleep for all of the racket we were making in the room next door, but he did. Left us to our martinis and goofiness. We continued on laughing about you name it--Me Maws, how I wouldn't hold Ricky's baby, Fain, etc.--it was a hoot. All the while the drinks were flowing, and soon, my eyes were fuzzy and the words weren't coming out so good. I don't think I was alone in this.
And then before I knew it, the black dress, still on the hanger, was around my neck and I was being shoved into the bedroom for Chris to see--even if he was sleeping. Cheri was yelling for Chris to wake up and see the dress on me and he yelled something about "sleeping". Well, that wouldn't do. Cheri then turned on all of the lights and made him look at me with the dress wrapped around my neck. I don't know why or how I got into this, but we were all dying, laughing until we nearly wet our pants. And poor Chris was just trying to sleep. I'll bet he wanted to kill us all at that very moment.
The party continued for a little more and Michelle asked us for a ride home. Joe, bartender and martini-maker extraordinaire, wasn't drinking so he drove us back to the cabins. Michelle could hardly find the key for her door and kept saying something about "losing her kids" and I couldn't stop laughing. Joe just rolled his eyes and waited until she got in safely before we headed to our cabin. There, my bed just wouldn't stay still while I tried to sleep. I hate it when the bed does that.
I opened my eyes the next day, dreading the pounding that was to follow in my head. To my surprise, I felt okay. No headache. No queasy tummy. Hmmmm.
As I walked to the pool a little later, I found Michelle on the tennis courts hopping around like she wasn't drinking last night. Girlfriend couldn't find her children the night before and now, here she was playing tennis. After a bunch of martinis. She wasn't hung-over either. We stop and laugh about the evening. We crack up about Chris and the black dress. We bust up over Joe backing into a post before the evening began. And we comment on how neither of us is hung over.
"It's the Svedka." she says. "Good vodka doesn't give you a hang-over. I swear by Svedka!" Michelle states like a expert. I'm sold. I won't buy another vodka since then. Geesh, the guy over at Binny's was right--you really should buy the best vodka you can. I'm not arguing. I did my research.
So, I'm thinking of plastering my car with ads for Svedka Vodka. I wonder if and how much I would get paid. Maybe they would just give me free vodka. Joe's in, he thinks its a good idea. Em's not so sure. She says it might be a little embarrassing when I drop her off in the front of the middle school with a giant vodka bottle on the top of my van.
Sigh. I guess the picture of me with the black dress around my neck swigging a martini is out too.