As soon as we hit 100 mph the cop sires ambushed us, as if they were calculating their bust. “I don’t really feel like racing tonight” kept replaying as the cop’s sirens became less noticeable. Then, scenarios played with my mind. “What if I make a run for it? And hide in an alley, or something. I’m probably going to be arrested, pay bail, lose my license, take defensive driving, be on my record, and get grounded”. Although, what I was most worried about was being grounded because my parents rarely ground me, but when they do, they’re extremist.
I Peer pressured, because I had a sudden burst of adrenaline. “Enthusiast” loves a specific subject. “Car enthusiast” is one that is always talking about cars, racing cars, seeing cars, and dreaming about cars. Although, being a car enthusiast can lead to problems, especially when you and your best friend get new “whips. ” Most people refer to their cars as whip. With the money I received from the insurance from the Mustang Mach 1, I was able to buy another car.
I went import and bought a gloss black 2002 Lexus IS300 manual transmission and added an ARK exhaust as well as a K&N cold air intake, making it sound strong and mean. My best friend, Carlo, bought a black 2002 Mitsubishi eclipse GT manual transmission, being two car enthusiasts; he added an ARK exhaust, that I recommended, and a K&N cold air intake, also making it sounding mean and strong. How could we not race? Two well-known imported cars, as well as good looking. It was a race that had to be. Even though, Carlo didn’t want to race.
He kept mentioning that he barely got his license, but it wasn’t true, because we had it what he didn’t have was the car. I guess we didn’t want to drive any car and waited to get the Mitsubishi, although, I would do the same. Any car enthusiast will tell you that his car represents him; his room might be covered with layer of junk, but not his car, his car is immaculate, no scratches, no dents, and no food odor… just thinking about my car smelling like makes food makes me get the chills. The car shows what you are made of; basically it’s a visual representation.
They also don’t drive just any car. Well that was his excuse; it wasn’t a good one, so we kept pushing. Telling him in order for the car to run smoother we had to break in the motor. I can’t believe he actually fell for it. It was a miracle, he was willing to race. But, that was our first mistake. As soon as he did agree to race I called all of my close friends, they are always willing to drive miles to see a race, and always had money to bet. We all agreed upon a location, the one narrow street by 130 and MacArthur.
Where the school hooligans’ race, we called it Gifford St, mainly because that’s the name of the street. Once we were all there, bets were made, rules were established, and road was clear of any metals and glass. Just to keep it a fair race. Rules, first no jump starts; it’s not a clean race if one cheats on the starting line. One honest friend at the end of the street to split the winner from the loser, another at the starting line to flash the green light, and all the rest just recording and betting.
To make the race more entertaining Carlo and I rewed our engines hitting redline and backfiring, that sound always pumps my blood, getting me into racing mode. But, that was our second mistake a bunch of kids in the middle of the street redlining their engines at midnight. I never asked the cops why they were there at that specific time, but I assume one of the neighbors did a noise complaint. As soon as I saw the green light I popped the clutch sending the car sideways but gaining speed fast once the wheels got tracking which was on second gear, I was off.
Although, I thought I was in the lead, but the cars were evenly matched. Up until 5 gear were my car dusted the Mitsubishi hitting 100 mph. As my beautiful whip approached the smooth curve I noticed some patrolling crown victoria’s, at that moment I knew I had two options, but only one was reasonable. Therefore, I had to pull over, the officer looked straight at me and with a straight voice said “license and registration” I gave them both. After a couple of minutes waiting, another cop pulled up to the scene.
Soon after I was in handcuffs, but I guess the cop had a change of mind and made me call my parents to come and pick me up. Boy, my mom was frustrated she gave me a lecture with the cop still there, and didn’t speak a word on the ride home. Yes, I was grounded as well as Carlo, but every one left as soon as they saw the cops. it was just us. That was the one and only time I ever peer pressured someone into doing something unwise and irresponsible. In a way, this experience traumatized me, in a good way. In the future even if I have a “sudden burst of energy” I’m going to think twice about it.