If your bored, you can read this.
So I randomly decide to go home from my dorm (10 minutes) to grab my debit card and sit around there for 10 minutes and say hey to mom. Elated by this surprise 9:00 visit, she gives me 5 bucks for dinner since I had a pounding headache from not eating dinner at my usual 5:00. (It's 9:20 at this point)
I gotta go down to CookOut and have me a couple BBQ Sandwiches, no slaw. Hell yes.
I roll on down main street with the windows down and the sunroof open in my usual race-track speed and pull into the parking lot really quick. As I turn, I pass some ricers sitting in a lowered red honda crx-looking hatchback (waiting to turn left) while going about 20 mph faster than normal. I glance at them, but my eyes are are quickly averted due to my friend mr. testosterone noticing some breasts in the general direction Iâ€™m headed for. Nice. (no offense!! don't hate me! Boobs are 600x better than 2 fat dudes in a honda!)
Anyways, I drive up to the drive through and place my order, pull forward a car length to wait in line and I notice those same ricers pull up beside me in the 2nd drive through lane. (Yes, 2 lane drive through. We got the pimpshizzy double penetration drive through down in NC)
........................ That's it........ They pull up and just sort of sit there. No music, no "hey rich fucker, how's your bimmer you snotty fuck!" or any other ignorant comments, they didn't even order anything, they just sat there. I pull up a car length after about 45 seconds and they do the same thing...... the thing is, they don't have 3 cars infront of them...... ooookay. They arenâ€™t looking at me or anything. If I look at them, they will turn their heads and look over at me like they are doing what normal people do. They werenâ€™t laughing or giggling or anything else, just sitting there......... ooooooukaaaaay?
I get my food and start to pull out..... and they cut me off. Oh, thanks. We both turn left out of the lot (cause I wanna fuck with them
) and we both stop at a stoplight at the front. Their windows are down with no music.
Now, these guys were southerners, you could say redneck if you felt like using a PI term, but whatever. They don't have any comments, they don't say shit. The car's got some nice black rims, painted calipers in the front and... here it comes, painted drums in the back. Bling bling, bitches. The interior was either gutted or was missing a few interior panels. Clear\euro\shit taillights, some stickers I've never seen before, and an aftermarket tach decorated the car..... It drove like it was an automatic. Beautiful.
I say "hey, nice rims", the driver nods upwards and says "thanks man" in his thick southern accent. I proceed to say "hey you'd probably win in a race against me," considering that were are both first in line at a stoplight, and this is the street everyone races on. He proudly proclaims "Yeap", but not as arrogantly as other ricers may do to try and make me feel bad. His buddy nods with his whole fat body and they sway back and fourth like a couple of walruses on an iceberg for a second or two. Then the light immediately turns green. Finally, jesus christ.
We both punch it, and I could hear that Vtech spooling up. Iâ€™m waiting for it to kick in and make that fart cannon sing. It never came, and I was sad. Expecting his WHP to be boosted into the triple digits with an ear piercing screech and a cloud of seething white smoke was truly a let down. Darn. It was his exhaust rattling against his bumper the whole time. That Vtech is a tricky, elusive bitch.
After about 5 seconds, he's a good 2 car lengths behind when I start weaving through traffic and get blocked by 2 SUV's with 55 year old MINLF (moms I'd NEVER like to fuck) driving them. The blubber brothers finally catch up and of course, he's gotta do the ricer 6" tailgate dance for no reason. We weeve through a couple more cars, and he's glued to my bumper, trying to show off his superior suspinsion & driving skillz by turning extremely hard and sharp. (which we all should know, is bad.)
The road opens up and I take it up to 70. Apparently they were too pussy to keep up, I mean, come on, the speed limit was only 35 on a 2 mile straight away with a cop going down the road every 10 minutes to prevent such activity. Whatever.
Anyways, the people were nice. I don't mean to diss them or the car. It had some style and didn't have any useless bullshit on it. The fart cannon wasn't as obnoxious as most, and they didn't say anything mean, so I'm cool with those kinds of people. I just thought this was a weird story about how these people acted at the cookout, and felt like writing some shit.