During this 12 hour intercontinental freeway trip, Mitt’s dog got sick.
[The oldest son, Tagg Romney] glimpsed the first sign of trouble. Dad! he yelled. Gross! A brown liquid was dripping down the back window, payback from an Irish setter who’d been riding on the roof in the wind for hours... Romney coolly pulled off the highway and into a service station. There, he borrowed a hose, washed down Seamus and the car, then hopped back onto the highway. It was a tiny preview of a trait he would grow famous for in business: emotion-free crisis management.
Oops i didn’t mean intercontinental but cross border.
GRRRRR. Thank you for answering my question. I better never meet this creep.