[Elvis in HIS El Dorado…..]
We were cruising down the 17 South in our spunky red Saab, when suddenly, out of nowhere, it appeared. In the fast lane. A smoking-hot, DEEP purple, tricked-out El Dorado, seemingly 1956 to my untrained eye. It had metallic racing stripes of silver, and a glowing blue dashboard. Oh, and the driver knew it. He caught us, out of the corner of his eye, swooning. Suddenly, with a Harley-like throaty exhaust burst, he rubbed it in our faces. God it was beautiful.