My girlfriend’s highschool graduation (yes, I’m that young) was yesterday, on mother’s day, because hick town, and that evening I got a text that I was invited to dinner with them since her grandparents from Minnesota were in town and really wanted to meet me. Cool. Dinner was at the Hyatt Regency at 6, the land of $20 entrees and $7 appetizers. My wallet cried, then she said “grandpa’s buying for everyone. We have a reservation, as well.” Cool. Get there and it’s a party of 20, her grandpa’s a millionare, and he’s talking about his time at a performance driving school at spa. Yes, that spa. The one in Blegium. Right about this point I got self-conscious since I came straight from the shop where I was doing some work on the Miata, and was wearing ratty jeans and a Miata blipshift shirt into the swankiest joint in Wichita. Michaela’s grandpa took a look at the shirt and says “Miata? I’ve had four of those!” and launches into a story about how he learned that coasting in-gear on ice is a Bad Idea, then I ate a $30 steak and listened to how terrifying the elevation changes at spa are for a beginner, and listened to Michaela’s cousin talk about his experiences drag racing for the first time in his ‘97 manual V6 mustang.
Turns out I made a good impression because I was invited this fall to go to her grandpa’s estate in Minnesota, which according to her mom is a Big Deal. Sweet. Let’s hope this charisma I appear to have helps me get the IT job I’m hopefully getting an interview for soon.
TL;DR Michaela’s family is jalop as hell
TL;DR2 find an enigmatic older wealthy gentleman and listen to his stories. They’re awesome.
Miata and Cadillac for your time.