Life of luxury

I freaking love my car and that's why I shelled out close $1,700 to ship that bad boy to the Virgin Islands with me. In retrospect, it was not a good idea because it was costly, it came three weeks later than it was supposed to and the rental car swindler pointed out a phantom dent in the rear bumper that cost me an additional $525.

"Sorry sir, we have to go with the appraisal from our auto mechanic," the jackass told me.

"Yeah, but $525? Give me a hammer and 15 minutes and I'll make it right," I barked back.

He wasn't interested in my antics and had no mercy on my shrinking wallet.

But it's all good. Now I have one of the best cars on island. Gonna sell her for big bucks when ever I decide to leave this rock, too.

The only blemish on this gorgeous 2002 Ford Explorer Sport was that for years, I never had air conditioning. After a while, I learned to live with it. The window stayed down, a slight breeze was essential and my left forearm snagged plenty of sun rays.

But moving to the tropics without A/C in the car can be ruthless. Even if my commute to work is a whopping 2 minutes and 13 seconds (Yes, I timed it yesterday), it doesn't matter.

I wear a collar shirt to work everyday and occasionally I put on some khaki slacks. Big emphasis on the word occasionally. But still, I find myself wiping sweat off my forehead while walking into work and trying to prevent my shirt from sticking to my moist torso. Now this sounds like a sleazy novel.

Have you ever fell victim to post-shower sweat? It's the worst.

Well, those days are now over thanks to my amigo, Jerry. Around these parts, he's famously known as Wolverine.

Jerry wanted to borrow the extravagant Explorer the other day because he had hosted two couples from California who were docked on a cruise ship and we're on St. Thomas for about 10 hours of mischief.

Being the fabulous friend that I am, I obliged. He traded me up with his truck -- I don't recall the make or model -- but it was your classic island car. Everyone's got one. A couple dings here or there and sand permanently ingrained into the decaying upholstery.

But being the great friend he is, Jerry one-upped me. When he came to swap automobiles, he brought along two little mystery canisters, popped the hood and ended my air-conditioning hex.

Apparently, the system just needed to be charged so for the last day or so, I've been cruising St. Thomas in my own personal refrigerator. Max A/C dialed up and each fan pushed to the limit.

I may run out of gas tomorrow but that's why we got soldiers wandering around the dessert, right? Ouch. That was very uncalled for and I apologize.

Big ups to my cousin, Jeff Gray, a West Point graduate, who is currently kicking ass and taking names in Afghanistan.

And to think, I've been sitting here writing for the last 10 minutes with air conditioning on my mind...