I once had a Nissan 300ZX.
It was bright red, had T tops and was a very quick little thing. It wasn't a Corvette, mind you, but when I hit the gas it did push you back in the seat a bit.

One day my girlfriend and I were approaching a bridge, passing a line of traffic, and got to a point where the traffic merged into one lane. As I was already going pretty fast I decided to floor it and duck into the open space at the front of the line.

Unfortunately the guy at the front of the line had his customized HONDA ACCORD and was determined that he wasn't going to let me in. He dropped down a gear or two and floored it, his engine screaming like a constipated Siamese, determined to beat me to the bridge in his super fast HONDA ACCORD.

I'm not stupid. I hit the brakes and let him go flying on ahead of me. And as he shot across the bridge I noticed that his exhaust was turning denser blue, meaning that he was burning oil and coolant.

At the next traffic light he was turning left and I was going straight, so I got to pull up next to him. The driver was a kid, probably around 19 to 22, a pudgy little fellow in aviator sunglasses. His chubby cheeks were puffed out and he looked like he was about to burst into tears as he sat there with his ruined engine, glaring at me as I laughed just as the light turned green.

I wonder if he felt it was worth it.
( Wanderer, Thu 22 Apr 2010, 20:35, Reply)