“She’s not just a Porsche. She’s a Porsche nine-one-one GT-three.There’s a difference.Let me guess, it’s the love of your life?” I said, quoting Travis’statement about his motorcycle.“No, it’s a car. The love of my life will be a woman with my last name.”

“Let me guess, it's the love of your life?" I said quoting Travis' statement about his motorcycle."No, it's a car. The love of my life will be a women with my last name.”

“No, it’s a car. The love of my life will be a woman with my last name.”

“Wow,” I said. “That story is disturbing on so many different levels. One thing that’s mystifying about Indian mythology is how often the names change. The skin color changes – she’s golden, she’s black, she’s pink. Her name changes – she’s Durga, Kali, Parvati. Her personality changes – she’s a loving mother, she’s a fierce warrior, she’s terrible in her wrath, she’s a lover, she’s vengeful, she’s weak and mortal, then she’s powerful and can’t be defeated. Then there’s her marital status – she’s sometimes single, sometimes married. It’s hard to keep all the stories straight.”Ren snickered. “Sounds like a normal woman to me.”

“It’s a Harley Night Rod. She’s the love of my life, so don’t scratch the paint when you get on.”

“I'm sorry about your Porsche.""I can replace the Porsche. I can't replace you. You need to be more careful."I was just sitting in your car!"Babe, you're a magnet for disaster.”