Yeah, get that a lot.

Yesterday went to work in Bridget and out for a (work-related) beer. Everyone went nuts. One guy on the street next to the bar engaged me in a 5 minute story about his ’37 Nash he sold for $50,000. “The guy wants $125,000 for it now,” he says. “Didn’t do nothin’ to it.”

Two little girls come out as I’m leaving and assert positively that they could fit in the area behind the seats: “Is it a race car?”

On the way home I’m crawling in rush hour traffic and a kid with a lacross stick wants to jump in. His buddies whip out their phones and snap away. At the drug store, more people. At the next red light, dude pulls up next to me and starts asking about her.

I swear, if I had Mick Jagger in the passenger seat we could not have got any more attention.