"Excuse me? Miss?" Chanel and I turn around and see an older, neat looking blonde woman walking after us outside. "Hello, I'm so sorry to bother you....My name is Camille Fortier, I'm a partner of European based photographers looking for new projects." The woman introduces herself with the slightest of french accents, and we both shake her hand, though we have no idea what she wants. "Hello," Chanel responds with a smile. "I hate to be a burden, but I saw you inside, and I could not help but. .. like for one car. I was always amazed at how some of those less expensive racing genre mystique vehicles drove so poorly.It must be remembered that Pepo was just happenstance, seemed more a place to get laid than to sell cars.I pretty much hated those sport cars. But, they sold. The beach bum crowd would buy them for a quick fix and a possible babe magnet. That whole mentality of I am what I drive never impressed me and I sound exactly like a snob.My horny bosses never used any particular. More

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