Monday, August 21, 2006

Making a name for myself

I enter the I-10 already passing traffic, this is my favorite move. I move over just one lane, because I need to set up my approach to the 405S and I’ve got less than 2 min’s before that entrance ramp. Glancing in the rearview I see that I have company, an Audi A4. What is it with these guys? I mean your wife might have a tasty pussy, but that don’t mean you are ready to tangle with real sports car.

They are turbocharged but have small displacement (2.0 liters). The Z is 2.8 liters. He’s encroaching my rear bumper which is most definitely a violation. Time to show him what torque is. I run her up to 95 and he is still there. I hear his turbo whistle as he passes me. I am amused as we enter the ramp. It’s a long winding right hander on a nice lean to the left and very high in the air. If you lose your concentration and look around to see how high you are…you’ll panic. Luckily for me I have a tach to watch…so it’s not really an issue. I roll in behind this guy with more torque than a new stripper on an old pole…on the long winding turn he hesitates even though he sits in the pole position. I swing to the outside and set up my pass (one Mississippi, two Mississippi). We are sailing around this tightening on ramp at about 70mph. He seems amazed that I can hold this turn in the outside lane, motherfucker you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I chuckle to myself and put on a display. The Z squats and hugs the turn as I accelerate away from him and I beat him to the merge by 10 yards. He seems perplexed as we merge onto the 405S.

Here he comes again, turbo and all…too bad I saw him coming. His turbo is hampered by the fact that he is heavier than me (by nearly 2500lbs) and his smaller displacement and that he is trying to catch me. But the real issue is gearing. My Z is a 4spd; that means no overdrive. At 80 mph I’m dealing with 4200 rpms and the bitch is starting to pull. He is making his move, fading left and accelerating…I run her hard in the right lane. We come side by side about 200 yards later…but the Z is pulling away from him. He protests by punching it a little but I am sure he has no heart . We crack 120 mph and my exhaust is really starting to get loud..he’s backing off as I feel the Z begin to wobble (see, he is a Pussy!). At 1800lbs it begins to float when the speeds get high…I see him fading back..and I’m not sure if it’s his fear of a speeding ticket or the realization that he’s not going to overtake me if I see him coming. That makes the running score 3-6 in my long running beef with Audi Nation (and fuck a TT while I’m on the topic!).

I have my typical road trip food with me. Arizona ginseng tea (in the bottle motherfucker), red licorice and beef jerky. I put the flaps up on my jungle/outback/cowboy hat and let the Z run. I love LA in the morning, no traffic and no Chippers…you can’t beat it. And now I am chewing and setting up my moves. I am telling you that I am a professional speeder. I got that shit down. I take most of you SUV’s on the uphill because you are never paying attention and have to really get on the gas to get that behemoth to climb. I am a master of the two lane pass…meaning that I don’t hop from lane to lane…that just fucks up the harmony. You got to be pretty with your shit. Make it look effortless (and if you drove a real car it would be). I chew my licorice and patiently wait for gaps to open. I’m small, light, nimble and I have a better power to weight ratio than most of the stock shit out here.

I rip past the entrance to the 90 (fuck Marina Del Rey!) and I see a Porsche Cayenne moving closer to me. What is the deal with you SUV people…you can’t hang at 80mph it burns way to much gas and your shit floats more than a rent check on the 5th of the month (in the hood…endorsed by Suki); just acknowledge your vehicular obesity and listen to your Boston Greatest Hits CD and keep the fuck out of my way? Yeah I know that thing has a ton of ponies, but c’mon…I can almost fit my car under yours. Anyway he wants to play but he has bad instincts and he is changing lanes entirely too much (not to mention the top heavy blonde that he keeps lookin’ over at in the passenger seat (FYI you white guys got to get smoother with your shit!). The size of his vehicle causes him to have to constantly check his mirrors to drive so aggressively. I am making one move to his every three and he can’t put any distance between him and my Z. He makes the fateful mistake of gambling on the left lane when I stay in the middle. He zooms up on what has to be an old couple chillin in the left lane because they like the view (or they feel safer…why do people do that shit?)…he spots them and is attempting to slide into my lane….(motherfucker please!) I read that shit two exits ago and have been in the guys blind spot for the last 500 meters. I drop the hammer and fuck him behind Fred & Ginger’s Prius (yes you are doing a lot for the environment…now get your alternative fuel burning ass in the slow lane with the rest of the cattle) and take my rightful place in the head of the pack.

This guy is better than your average bear because he doesn’t challenge me after that…though he does follow each move that I make to get through traffic (you need to stop bitin’ my style)…I guess that’s a compliment…but I still hate SUV’s so fuck him, his Bluetooth shit and the chica with the big titties (unless of course she wants a ride in the Z).

Everything changes when we hit the 710; the entry ramp is hella tight and I kind of wasn’t ready when I entered (you try paying attention when the chorus for “I come from the water” comes around and you are in the wrong lane). Mr. Porsche was all over the lane behind me (get your hands of her tits and pay attention before you kill us all). He moves closer to me not to intimidate but I think he was accelerating his was out of a near slide (but are they real is the question?)…but I’m not feelin’ it either way. So I’m getting’ on the throttle. The 710 is truck city as we attempt to merge. He’s trying to ride my ass so he can get in when I get in….(yeah…ok.. let’s see if you can keep up). I drop her into 3rd and the twice pipes crack loudly and the torque gets crazy high….I open up a 15- 20 yard gap.. and then I dodged the Z between to tractor trailers and found daylight…and you ain’t doin’ that in a truck based SUV (I see him shoot me a look like the kid that doesn’t get picked to play football)… but since I was often that kid I telepathically tell him that this will make him a better person and that the chances of his getting a chance to put his salsa on that taco are only going to increase if he slows down.

35 min’s later I was at the convention center. With a belly full of jerky and 4 racing in traffic titles. I kind of don’t care what happens now….I had an awesome drive.


COOPRDOG

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