Pulled into a gas station, and while filling my car up a RSX with a Maxwell house coffee can and gizmo flashing lights pull up. Stuntaz get out (inverted tennis hats, whole stereotype going here) and say in their guttral speak:
"Yo biatch, what up in that ride"
Hand movements, gestures and grunts follow. I guess they were asking about the car.
Whatever. I don't speak nor understand that crap or care for them at all. Go back to your vibrating bass.
I pull out onto Rankin road, and they follow up to the red light, passenger pulls up a NO2 bottle attached to a bunch of hoses. and makes more hand gestures and points at the light.
Does this guy think he is a dentist, anesthesialogist or something?
I guess he wants to race.
Ok, light turns green, and a 4.5K clutch drop on a AWD turbocharged vehicle proves fatal for the ethincly confused white boyz.
Feel the pain.
Another ho-hum day in the life of a WRX owner...