While I was at Pope AFB, I worked with an airman that had a 92 civic, it was gold with a big aluminum wing on the trunk lid and sounded like a bumble bee. After a couple of days this kid starts giving me crap about my “found on roadside dead” Ford. Of course I gave him a fair share of rice jokes back. He kept talking about how he would smoke me in my car. Being a responsible NCO I told him we could take it to the Fayetteville Speedway. So finally after a few weeks we agreed to meet there on a Thursday night, since that was their test and tune night. Low and behold the Thursday morning we were going to race, guess whose, car I passed broken down on the side of All American Freeway. He had pushed a rod through the block. So that race never happened.
Of course the fair share of crap that I had dealt him previous to this quickly got magnified by one hundred when I got to work that day. So he came back with saying he would kick my butt in his other car – a 97 Z28. Ok, now I really didn’t think I would have a chance against the low end torque of a V8. So I told him to let me know when he got his box of uncle ben’s back on the road.
The last week I was at Pope I had to work Tuesday, then was off Wednesday and Thursday. That Tuesday myself and a friend were headed back to our hotel. Now the guy riding with me is an easy 250 lbs, and I had my mobility bags, another 120 lbs in the hatch. We cut through Fort Bragg and out onto All American again, and we roll up beside guess who in his Z28. I look at him and he looks at me, he had the right hand lane which means he had the inside of a slight curve, we are rolling at about 45, and we go. I through mine down into 2nd and he (being in an autotragic) floors his car. I was just ever so slightly pulling on him, we come out of the curve onto a straight at about 65 which is when I shift to 3rd right below redline and I am pulling good on him and end up with almost 2 lengths on him by the time I hit 90 at which point I slow down b/c there is traffic entering the freeway ahead. I turn to my friend and say “I think I had him”, he said “Yep you had him.”
The next day I run into my Senior and he says he was right behind us when we took off, at first I thought I might be in trouble but he said I saw you smoke that Camaro.
Friday rolls around and the kid comes in and of course now the trash talking is definitely on. Of course he says, “I wasn’t really racing.” But My Senior comes in and raises the BS flag on him, and so does the guy riding with me.
Yeah, I know if it had been from a dead stop that V8 would have gift-wrapped my butt and handed it to me on a silver platter, so I was surprised that I took him.
Of course the fair share of crap that I had dealt him previous to this quickly got magnified by one hundred when I got to work that day. So he came back with saying he would kick my butt in his other car – a 97 Z28. Ok, now I really didn’t think I would have a chance against the low end torque of a V8. So I told him to let me know when he got his box of uncle ben’s back on the road.
The last week I was at Pope I had to work Tuesday, then was off Wednesday and Thursday. That Tuesday myself and a friend were headed back to our hotel. Now the guy riding with me is an easy 250 lbs, and I had my mobility bags, another 120 lbs in the hatch. We cut through Fort Bragg and out onto All American again, and we roll up beside guess who in his Z28. I look at him and he looks at me, he had the right hand lane which means he had the inside of a slight curve, we are rolling at about 45, and we go. I through mine down into 2nd and he (being in an autotragic) floors his car. I was just ever so slightly pulling on him, we come out of the curve onto a straight at about 65 which is when I shift to 3rd right below redline and I am pulling good on him and end up with almost 2 lengths on him by the time I hit 90 at which point I slow down b/c there is traffic entering the freeway ahead. I turn to my friend and say “I think I had him”, he said “Yep you had him.”
The next day I run into my Senior and he says he was right behind us when we took off, at first I thought I might be in trouble but he said I saw you smoke that Camaro.
Friday rolls around and the kid comes in and of course now the trash talking is definitely on. Of course he says, “I wasn’t really racing.” But My Senior comes in and raises the BS flag on him, and so does the guy riding with me.
Yeah, I know if it had been from a dead stop that V8 would have gift-wrapped my butt and handed it to me on a silver platter, so I was surprised that I took him.
