As we hit the outskirts of Anderson the road turned to four lanes, we pulled up to a stoplight first in line in the right lane. Next to us, blocking out the sun, stopped a full-size Chevy panel van. The passenger looked over and down at us, gave us the V sign with his fingers and then mumbled something unintelligible in a heavy rural southern accent with a big smile on his face. The light turned green and they lurched forward trying to get the jump on me. I accelerated at my usual brisk pace and as their out of tune van bucked and stumbled, the Emperor pulled away. As the van reached speed it smoothed out and tore right by. Until the next light.
Even again, my rural friend leaned out the window and said, “We figure with this curve up ahead we’ll take you easy.” and smiled big to let me know he was kidding. Then he said, “Look behind us.” I thought he was going to point out an LEO, but no, I could see a red and white two-tone mid 50’s Chevy. “Fifty-five,” my new best buddy says. I ask, “Wonder if he’d trade me straight up?” The passenger just rolls his eyes and the driver says, “Depends on how much money you got in your pocket.” The light changes and off I go.
At the next light, the van is in the right lane next in line behind me and they are directly across from the ’55 Chevy. I can’t hear what they are saying, but everybody’s jaws are moving. I can bet our rural friends are not asking if the guy in the ’55 Belair wants to swap cars with me. And if they are, guaranteed there will not be a swapping of pink slips at the next light.
The next light is a long way off and by the time I get stopped at it, both the van and the ’55 are long gone.
Started down, went up, still up.
Miata Top Transitions since 01/01/07: 441
