Its 6:45pm, 89 degrees, in a small black car, in the first true gridlock ive ever had the pleasure of sitting through. Across from me sits a guy who looks more like Secret Squirrel than any human should, with what has to be the most beautiful blonde in Huntsville, in quite possibly the worst looking Celica on the planet. Major rice here, no bribing the French judge would be required to kill this score.
I sit there for a few more minutes fiddling around with the CD player when I decide to strike up a little conversation with said squirrel-man. "So what have you got there?" I said, trying to look at him instead of her t**s. "Celica GT." Thanks genius. "I meant what have you done with the car?" He starts spouting something about a TRD Bodykit and Mugen wing, all the while im wondering if she'd give me her number, and if i'd have to whoop his a** to get it. "So you havent done anything under the hood yet?" Again, blabber about TRD thingys, HKS fart can, some other nonsense. Now im thinking she works at Hooters, cause those boobs look kinda familiar. "Cool." I say, stairing at her t**s now. "So you want to run? Theres a good spot out on Jordan." He fires back with a big smile and we hit the blinkers.
On Jordan Lane now, right infront of the Ford dealership were pacing each other. We come up to the redlight at Grizzard, he says "Im shutting down at 120." Im thinking, can he get to 120? All that fiberglass must weigh more than I do. A couple cars pull in behind us, and im holding at 3900. Green light, 1-2 off without a hitch, hes sucking fumes.
At the Mastin Lake light, over a mile down from Grizzard, Secret Squirrel comes a-limpin'. "Dude, you sprayed me!" Ok, lame-ass excuses i can handle, and my car isnt exactly a speed demon, but give me a little credit here. "Nope, not spraying man, sorry." "No way dog, I beat Focuses all the time!" Its pretty obvious my future wife aint havin' it, shes got that arms-crossed "Whatever" look going. "Lets go again then, turn around and we can go from a roll." So we go from a 30 roll, he gets a look at my taillights again. Back at Grizzard, I pull along side the passenger door, flash her a smile, get one back (suprised the hell outta me too), and went on my way.
I sit there for a few more minutes fiddling around with the CD player when I decide to strike up a little conversation with said squirrel-man. "So what have you got there?" I said, trying to look at him instead of her t**s. "Celica GT." Thanks genius. "I meant what have you done with the car?" He starts spouting something about a TRD Bodykit and Mugen wing, all the while im wondering if she'd give me her number, and if i'd have to whoop his a** to get it. "So you havent done anything under the hood yet?" Again, blabber about TRD thingys, HKS fart can, some other nonsense. Now im thinking she works at Hooters, cause those boobs look kinda familiar. "Cool." I say, stairing at her t**s now. "So you want to run? Theres a good spot out on Jordan." He fires back with a big smile and we hit the blinkers.
On Jordan Lane now, right infront of the Ford dealership were pacing each other. We come up to the redlight at Grizzard, he says "Im shutting down at 120." Im thinking, can he get to 120? All that fiberglass must weigh more than I do. A couple cars pull in behind us, and im holding at 3900. Green light, 1-2 off without a hitch, hes sucking fumes.
At the Mastin Lake light, over a mile down from Grizzard, Secret Squirrel comes a-limpin'. "Dude, you sprayed me!" Ok, lame-ass excuses i can handle, and my car isnt exactly a speed demon, but give me a little credit here. "Nope, not spraying man, sorry." "No way dog, I beat Focuses all the time!" Its pretty obvious my future wife aint havin' it, shes got that arms-crossed "Whatever" look going. "Lets go again then, turn around and we can go from a roll." So we go from a 30 roll, he gets a look at my taillights again. Back at Grizzard, I pull along side the passenger door, flash her a smile, get one back (suprised the hell outta me too), and went on my way.
