If your front porch collapses and kills more than three Mexican groundskeepers, you just might be a Romney.
If you’ve ever used a private Jet for carry-out, you might be a Romney.
If your wife removes the Virginia Slim 100 Ultra Light from her lips before telling the pool boy to bend over and pick up her Prada bathrobe, you better face facts because you might be a Romney.
If you like to fire people, and for some reason think that would make an excellent sound bite during your presidential campaign, you might be a Romney.
If you go out and buy a Porsche because you just didn’t feel like driving the Mercedes today, you might be a Romney!
Not something Romney said, but something a rich member at a golf club I worked at actually did… he was annoyed because the Porsche dealership wouldn’t even address him when he showed up in his maid’s station wagon, so had to go home and drive the Mercedes anyways in order to go buy the Porsche.