null and the Hot New Car
No more than I had driven my new Tarmac Black EVO VIII off the lot, than a boy-racer in a last-generation Camaro replete with Erector-Set-style rear wing started trying to challenge me. I smiled and let him go after showing him that my mid-range response was nothing he could touch.
Fast forward a few minutes, and I'm pulling into the Best Buy parking lot. No more than I step out of the car than several gear heads in the lot wandered up to take a look at her. One kept bitching about "you import guys", but I could tell he wanted to know more about the car since he was the one that stayed to talk the longest.
I rode home in relative peace while listening to With Teeth ("Only" being the first song I played). Of course, peace is relative, because there were a lot of people with hottish cars that wanted to play with me. I couldn't play very hard since I've still got 500 miles on the mandatory-we'll-shut-the-engine-off-if-we-don't-like-what-you're-doing break-in period. I was still about the fastest thing on the road.
I told Luminaire about this, and he agreed that barring the odd Ferrari, I'd be one of the fastest things on the road. Of course, I said that I'd like to try that one, as I thought I could maybe bang with an F360 from a dead-stop--I have video-game reflexes. He agreed that I might have a chance.
This being Microsoft-land, I was talking to my girlfriend when I pulled up next to a fire-engine red F360. I showed him my taillights at the first light. He was good and mad when he pulled up beside me. This time, I hit the acceleration just perfectly and executed a flawless, quick throw between first and second. I hit sixty and then dropped it out of gear to let it coast back down to street speed.
My recap of the match to the girlfriend: "Here he comes, and oh man is he mad."
This morning, I took it up on the road between Redmond and Fall City to play in the curves. I was screaming uphill through curves caution-marked at 35 MPH. Figuring I was putting in 50 MPH with the kind of lateral pull I was feeling against the leather Recaro seats, I looked at the speedo, and I was nearly at 70, twice the posted caution speed.
Afterward, I made my way down to Tukwila and ran back up I5. Coming out of the Valley Freeway, I intercepted a vintage muscle car club out for a joyride. They obviously weren't pleased to see the little rice rocket zipping past them, so they tried to follow. The turbo and steering in traffic were way too much, and eventually they gave up and settled back in for a leisurely cruise. I did a little jig inside.
Then I came home to square away insurance and look about getting a new shift knob--the stock knob is too small for my hand.
I think I'm in love.
No more than I had driven my new Tarmac Black EVO VIII off the lot, than a boy-racer in a last-generation Camaro replete with Erector-Set-style rear wing started trying to challenge me. I smiled and let him go after showing him that my mid-range response was nothing he could touch.
Fast forward a few minutes, and I'm pulling into the Best Buy parking lot. No more than I step out of the car than several gear heads in the lot wandered up to take a look at her. One kept bitching about "you import guys", but I could tell he wanted to know more about the car since he was the one that stayed to talk the longest.
I rode home in relative peace while listening to With Teeth ("Only" being the first song I played). Of course, peace is relative, because there were a lot of people with hottish cars that wanted to play with me. I couldn't play very hard since I've still got 500 miles on the mandatory-we'll-shut-the-engine-off-if-we-don't-like-what-you're-doing break-in period. I was still about the fastest thing on the road.
I told Luminaire about this, and he agreed that barring the odd Ferrari, I'd be one of the fastest things on the road. Of course, I said that I'd like to try that one, as I thought I could maybe bang with an F360 from a dead-stop--I have video-game reflexes. He agreed that I might have a chance.
This being Microsoft-land, I was talking to my girlfriend when I pulled up next to a fire-engine red F360. I showed him my taillights at the first light. He was good and mad when he pulled up beside me. This time, I hit the acceleration just perfectly and executed a flawless, quick throw between first and second. I hit sixty and then dropped it out of gear to let it coast back down to street speed.
My recap of the match to the girlfriend: "Here he comes, and oh man is he mad."
This morning, I took it up on the road between Redmond and Fall City to play in the curves. I was screaming uphill through curves caution-marked at 35 MPH. Figuring I was putting in 50 MPH with the kind of lateral pull I was feeling against the leather Recaro seats, I looked at the speedo, and I was nearly at 70, twice the posted caution speed.
Afterward, I made my way down to Tukwila and ran back up I5. Coming out of the Valley Freeway, I intercepted a vintage muscle car club out for a joyride. They obviously weren't pleased to see the little rice rocket zipping past them, so they tried to follow. The turbo and steering in traffic were way too much, and eventually they gave up and settled back in for a leisurely cruise. I did a little jig inside.
Then I came home to square away insurance and look about getting a new shift knob--the stock knob is too small for my hand.
I think I'm in love.
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Perhaps you could show me a thing or two after I get out there.