Yesterday, I was making my merry way home from school and made a routine turn onto a street. Immediately confronted by a red light, I make the best of the time given to me and look for ricers to harass. I look to my left (i'm in the right lane) and a kid I know from school is in his Scion - giving me "let's go" hand motions. I'm always up for a good-natured race between friends, and this kid is pretty cool. I casually shift the autobox's selector into sport, then manual-shift mode. I look for the light, and the instant it goes green the accelerator meets the floorboard very quickly. I see the orange DSC light flicking on and off on the instrument panel - my way of determining how good my launch was, and the Sumitomos squeal a bit before I leap off. I got the jump off the line, letting the engine run to the redline before shifting up. I recall seeing my speedometer at 90 as I crested the hill when he flashed his lights, his signal for conceding defeat. I hit the brakes and tucked in behind him to cut through the traffic. The day then continued as planned.