#1328
Nicky Hilton & me !

I recently discovered that Paris Hilton (you must know who she is) has a sister named Nicky.

And, if you think Paris is HOT, wait till you see Nicky...
uh... ok... back to the story.

Paris is worth about $500 Million so, I am guessing that Nicky must be worth something too.

I've always thought that people who say "You can't buy happiness."
didn't know where to shop.

That kind of money buys a lot of happiness...
or at least you could rent a pretty good time with it.

So... the 1/2 Billion dollar question becomes...
"How can I get Nicky Hilton to run out of gas just as I come along ?"

I mean, it's my neighborhood and I drive there a lot...
I've just never seen her there before.

But, can you picture this ?
(come on, you gotta try for my fanta... err... story... to work)


So, there I am just driving along, minding my own business when I spot her...

"Hey that looks just like Nicky Hilton", I say to myself...
hands on hips, painted silk evening dress - split up the sides,
leaning waaaaay over her the hood of her...
(your choice of exotic cars here, mine is an XJ12 Jag).

I knew it was her since I had seen a picture of her...
well, ok, several pictures...
alright, damn it... 237 pictures of her...
on the internet.

I download every one I can find...
mostly late at night when I can't sleep...
which is most of the time these days...
because, there might just be another picture of her
somewhere which I haven't found yet.

Anyhow, back to my... uh... story.

She spots me and flags me down.
But, I drive past... nooooo.... wait...

Damsels in distress are my meat and potatoes...
rewind.

I pull over and stop... and get out...
I try to speak but, all that comes out is jiberish...
"I... uh... aren't you... uh..." (I am feeling faint).

It doesn't matter, she can speak.

"Kind sir, my car is stalled and I am stranded in this awful place."

Her voice is just as I imagined it to be...
soft and seductive - with just a trace of a lisp.

Her smile is so radiant that it could be an alternate energy source.

Awful ? THIS IS WERE I LIVE LADY !!!
I don't actually say this...
I still can't say anything...
and I am drooling.

She continues...
"If there was only some way you could help me,
I would be sooooo grateful."

'Sooooo grateful'.
I am wondering how much 'sooooo' is.

Her steel grey eyes stare into mine and I am captivated by them...
still unable to speak, lost in a dream...

All I can do is stare back...
and try not to drool on her.

"Hey, are you listening to me ?"
I snap back into reality.

There are other cars stopping.

"Yes... yes, of course... here, get in"
I manage to blurt out
as I wipe my face with my sleeve.

I open the door and she slids into my car...
and swings her legs... her long, long legs...
long, slender, shapely legs... which are oh-so-nice...

"I think we should go." she says, snaping me back... again.

I close the door and walk around to get in.

Thousands of guys are running towards the car as we speed away
just in the Nicky...
I mean... 'nick'... of time.

Most of them are swearing at me...
a few pitch beer bottles...
but, we get away clean.

Anyhow, there she is riding in my car...
with those long legs... those long slender...

I swerve just in time to miss a kid on a bike.

"You better watch where we are going." she says
looking at me with those steel blue eyes.

Too bad she can't ride on my hood, I am thinking
then I could watch both her and the road at once.

As it is, I have to choose between taking my eyes off her
and living to tell about it.

"It was so nice of you to stop and help me - hi, I'm Nicky."

She holds out her hand and I shake it,
amazed that anything could be so soft.

She screams as I narrowly miss a mail box.
I ease the car back onto the roadway,
fish-tailing a bit in the recovery.

"I... I know." is all I can get out.
I try to watch the road.
At least I've stopped drooling.

The Sun is shining and the clouds look like they belong
on the set of the Simpsons.

And Nicky Hilton is in my car..

MY CAR !!!

I think about what it would feel like to have her soft hands...
I swerve again to miss a dog.

"Would you like me to drive ?" she asks,
her voice sounding a little frantic.

"No, no, really, I'm OK."

"I just don't usually pick up beautiful..."
rich... famous... I count all the adjectives I could use...
including long and slender...
my mind drifts away again.

She is looking at her hand and I realize that I had forgotten to wash mine.

She wipes her hand on a rag which I keep stashed under the seat.

Now both of her hands are dirty
and they smell like gasoline.

She gives me a little smile.

It's been a couple of seconds since I've had to swerve
to avoid hitting anything.

I wonder if she smokes ?

Then I notice that she is wearing the biggest diamond ring I have ever seen,
but, I can't recall if an engagement ring is worn on the left or right hand.

With my luck she is probably engaged...
to some guy with a lot of money.

The kind who panics if she doesn't call him every 15 minutes...
The kind who is rich and famous and connected...
And he probably wouldn't want her to be here with me.

"Nice rock" I manage to blurt out...
wondering what spending ten months in a body cast feels like.

"Its a friendship present... from a guy I know." she says.

I wonder to myself what he got in exchange.

My friends rarely give away presents worth more than
the gross national product of small countries.

"He must be a good friend."

I am amazed that I am able to form sentences...
at least short ones, again.

"Oh, you know, a lot of guys buy me things."
She is still wiping her hands trying to get the gasoline smell off.

I don't 'know', but I can imagine.
"So, that's not... (gasp ) an engagement ring ?"

I realize that I am holding my breath...
and not because of her hands.

"Oh no, I am still available."

I try to breath but I can't...
and I don't care...
she's single - "AVAILABLE" !!!

There is a ringing in my ears.

My hands are squeezing the steering wheel so hard they leave impressions in it.

Should I drive her to a telephone ?
A gas station ?

There is a motel just down the block.

No, she would never go for that...

I don't think she would go for that...

Maybe she would go for that (?)

"Do you live around here ?" - Nicky asks.

We pass the motel.

HOME, I could take her HOME...
That's the ticket.

"Uh yea, I live just around the corner."
I must be recovering somewhat.

"Why don't we go there ?"
"Can I make a phone call from there
and maybe wash my hands ?"

She is staring at me again... with those grey eyes.

I am stunned by her suggestion...
and my head is swimming from her perfume...
which smells like a field of roses.

"You can take a bath, a long hot bath...
with my Mr. Bubbles, if you wanted to."

I can't believe I said that...
the words just dribbled out.

I wonder is she has a rubber ducky in her bath tub ?

I picture her laying there... relaxing in my tub...
incense isburning... and candles...
I have a chair pulled up...
and my camera is out.

Then I realize that my bath tub is probably dirty.
She has probably seen a dirty bath tub before...
or...
maybe she hasn't.

I mean she is NICKY HILTON.
But, maybe she would like to.

"Yea, sure."
but, I don't hear her because of the ringing in my ears.

"But, you probably want to get your car running ?"
This isn't a good neighborhood to leave it in, I am thinking.

"Oh, my mechanics will take care of that
but, I may need to find a place to stay,
at least for tonight."

Mechanics... she has her own mechanics ?
Then I realize what else she just said.

I know where she can "STAY AT LEAST FOR TONIGHT"...

Oh, GOD... PLEASE !

Then I remember that I didn't make the bed...
or do the dishes...
or change the water in the aquarium...
or clean the cat box...
or...

Too late, we pull into my drive...


(To be continued)