Interesting…
I don’t know what it is about me, or my car (which is in no way some shiny, new sports vehicle), but I’ve had at least 6 or 7 idiots attempt to street race me. Why in the hell…?
As much as my bad-ass alter ego is screaming at me to floor it and put the cocky S.O.B. in his tricked out Mitsubishi Lancer in his place because I know how to handle a car well, I don’t intend on getting arrested, or putting anybody else in danger.
Like the other day, I’m first in the middle lane of an intersection, when a car pulls up on either side of me. Idiot #1 in a Scion and Idiot #2 in a Charger. Both of them rev their engines, and try to provoke me to join them. I wasn’t going to do it, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to mess with them. I suavely put on my Ray Bands, give them both a sly smile, and rev my dad’s little ole black Camry. At this point, the two are really excited, and as soon as the light turns green, they’re off, and I enter the intersection normally, and then like magic, BOOM, a cop on his motorcycle pulls a right turn onto the street with the two thrill-seekers.
He didn’t pull them over, but he flashed his lights, pulled up in between them and motioned them to slow down. The cop turns left and goes on his merry way, and I’m stuck in between the two again, and I can’t help but bust out laughing. They weren’t too happy about it, but hey, what can ya do?
