(Translation: "Women and Motors. Motors.")
It would probably be impossible to describe, in this space, the experience that was the Motor Show in all of its craziness and absurdity. I spent 14 days, with no break, utterly immersed in a world that has no bearing whatsoever on the life I'm familiar with. It was exhausting and weird, but rivetingly interesting. How could it not be? When will I ever spend 14 days around race cars and fashion models again?
My job (alternately known as "image girl" and "hostess") was a mix between desk attendant, car ornament, travel guide, translator, gadget distributor, and peacemaker. I spoke and wrote so little English after the first few days that I stopped thinking in it at all.
Since I survived, I think that I can say that I passed through some kind of unnamed life test. (When I started, I honestly didn't know if I would make it through.) And I not only survived - I did just fine and even managed to keep my spirits up amid the cutthroat behavior exhibited behind the scenes, and the sleaziness on display 12 hours a day.
I got to ride in a race car, on a race track, driven by a professional race car pilot. Twice. Amazing!
I tried to protect my feet, but they hurt. They feel somewhat better now.
I was actually under the protection of a bouncer. We were amazed by his water bottle crushing abilities. We actually arm-wrestled with this man - 4 against 1. He won, anyway.
No one was really stuck in his or her prescribed role. And I found that the people I least expected to be kind and genuine really were; and vice versa. It's a cliched lesson that I learn time and time again.
It was probably the furthest out of my comfort zone I've gone while I've been in Italy. And it's really satisfying to know that I made it through, and that I can enjoy talking about and dissecting the experience. Whether or not I ever do anything like it again, I have no regrets. I am a Motor Show survivor!
