Multi-tasking behind the wheel

Hubby once warned me that I really shouldn't be on the cell while driving, an advice I have completely ignored. Dumb, very dumb.
I don't think cops like me. I mean, cops as straight men are crazy about me, but not cops as poor men whose only satisfaction in life is by showing off their lack of a penis by busting rich already-taken women for insignificant nonsense. I constantly get pulled of for stupid reasons.
Today a cop pulled me over. Normally in this situation the cop plays tough at first, I say I don't mind him "pulling me... over", we flirt some and then he lets me off with a warning. So I was preparing by putting on lipgloss so I could pout my way out of getting a ticket for speeding. Well, apparently this one was in no mood to flirt.
"It's illegal to be on the phone while driving", the stern copper said.
After all my flirting attempts had failed I just sighed and asked him for the ticket.
"Ha, ticket? Young lady, you have a date with the court"!
I began protesting loudly. No way I couldn't talk or flirt my way out of this!
"If you curse again I will arrest you right now for assaulting an officer", he threathened.
"I object! You can't do that!" I gasped while wondering if he could.
"Or for indecent exposure", he said and pointed to my mini-mini and wifebeater.
"Oh come on, I'm European, we don't wear bras! Don't act like you mind seeing some nipple!"
He picked up the hand cuffs and his walkie to call for back-up.
I was still in shock and realized I really was about to get in some serious trouble. Neither of my two main manipulative moves; cheeky flirting and "but I'm European", had worked. I realized I only had one more scheme to try.
I cried.
I hate crying to get my way, partly because I have some dignity, but also a simpler reason: my make-up is not water-resistant.
But I had no other way out. And luckily, it worked. I don't even want to know what would happen if Hubby would've had to bail me out from jail again.

Espadrillos Problemas

Summer in New York is amazing. I drive with the top down while playing Kate Ryan loud (French house), show off my personally trained body in minis and I am sporting my dear old friends that are back in fashion; espadrillos. I haven't worn them since I broke my foot in Marbella, Spain three years ago. That's not the only fashion/bardancing accident I've ever had, but by far the worst one. Imagine spending the rest of the summer holiday with your foot in a cast! I was miserable, although men took better care of me than ever before, so it's not all bad.
I have now carefully weighed the risks versus the rewards for putting my espadrillos back on and I have decided it's worth it. But I must abide by one rule; I can't wear them when under the influence!
As I was getting ready to go out to our house in the Hamptons I realized my espadrillos pretty much take up one bag each and my trunk is too small!
For a brief second I considered getting one of those Porsche SUV's with lots of trunk space. But no matter how much as I love my shoes - I love my z4 more.

Another thing. When in the Hamptons I miss one thing above all; being single. As a wife I have limits, rules and have to behave. People know I'm Hubby's and watch my every move as they can't wait to see me ruin this perfect marriage by drunken swirling around poles in espadrillos - like back in the day. Anytime I seem to have fun in clubs with my girlfriends someone will always remind me ever-so-politely that I am a married woman and should act like one.
I'm quietly wondering if their idea of married women is sitting at home knitting. Seriously, married women should be allowed to party too! Since when does partying mean cheating?!