so i'm coming home from where i was the other night, and i'm stuck at the same long light that i'm always stuck at after midnight coming home.
along comes a true-to-life Vanilla Ice style Mustang 5.0 convertible. don't see them too often anymore, at least not at the track. he immediately starts jawing at me. i'm tired, turn down my radio, roll down the window, and say, "what?"
"do you wanna go?"
"not really, i'm kinda tired."
"rice burner pansy - you know you can't win."
oh boy, just the talk i love to hear at 1:30am. so i look over and say, "are you really aware of how much horsepower you're dealing with?"
"yeah," he says. "that's one of them 190hp WRX's, right? what, you think you're fast cause you have that big wing?"
i shake my head, then proceed to dump the clutch and light up all four wheels (keep in mind this is EASY considering the 35 degree temp) and let the car jump forward maybe a foot or two. i look back at him and ask, "are you still sure you wanna go?"
he looks over, saucer-eyed, and says, "nah that's cool," turns right, and takes off.
i shake my head and proceed home at a nice pace. musta been something scary looking about my black STi with smoke drifting off all four corners. i dunno, ya got me. *shrug*