
Madras makes me think of summers in Maine, where I worked as a teen-age au pair for a rich family on their private 23-acre island in the middle of Rangeley Lake. Their friends and relatives included a Gimbels Department Store heir and a Palm Beach stockbroker who stored pot in a Carr's water biscuit tin in his bank safe-deposit box. They entertained themselves racing vintage Chris-Craft runabouts across the lake. See, Sparky? I was born to be rich!
No comments:
Post a Comment