I bought an 87 t-type, AKA Natasha, in January of this year. She spent the winter on my buddies lift getting a fully adjustable rear suspension and coil overs. She was pent up staying out of the snow and off the ice like a good girl. Fast forward to spring.
I had driven Natasha to work and weekends and I enjoyed the ride. But something was missing. Compliments, sure of course they love her. Hey nice car, Grand national right?, or hey I know what that is and I like it. Still I was feeling a void.
Until today driving Natasha was like going to prom with a hot cheerleader and not getting to first base. Oh boy did I try the past few weeks. I've passed Mustangs, Challengers, Chargers, Camaros, and foreign stuff. No bites. No nibble. No nada.
Last weekend I really began to feel like it was my fault. What had I done? Why won't they race me? I pulled up next to a Supera. No thank you he must have said, you are old and weak. Then on the same road a 2015 Stingray. Nope, you are missing two cylinders and you are built like a box go back to the 80's he scoffed. I think he said that, not even a thumbs up. Jerk face. Well it must be me, it can't be Natasha cause she is smoking hot. Fast forward a little more.
Today was like any other day. Work then school. But on my way home it happened. Just like in the fairy tales I was told as a kid, it unfolded. We pass a gas station and I noticed a black Shelby GT500 was about to pull out. As I passed I rolled off the gas. The GT500 turn to follow us and took the bait. Hook, line, and sinker.
He pull up next to me and the passenger gave me a thumbs up. I reciprocated and smiled. Truthfully l was nervous. My foot was twitching above the gas pedal but I waited for him. Plus Natasha likes to be courted. I heard a surge of air being sucked into his car as he took the lead. The GT500 was just a car length away before I matched his pace. Natasha eagerly gained on him until I slowed down for traffic.
Knowing full well we where both game we went at it again. I pulled up next to him doing about 45 and launched it. Natasha left him just like she gained on him, real steady. We met at the light and he motioned me to roll down the window. That wouldn't have happened if I was in a lower gear, he said as he turned off the road.
Please, I was in overdrive.
I had driven Natasha to work and weekends and I enjoyed the ride. But something was missing. Compliments, sure of course they love her. Hey nice car, Grand national right?, or hey I know what that is and I like it. Still I was feeling a void.
Until today driving Natasha was like going to prom with a hot cheerleader and not getting to first base. Oh boy did I try the past few weeks. I've passed Mustangs, Challengers, Chargers, Camaros, and foreign stuff. No bites. No nibble. No nada.
Last weekend I really began to feel like it was my fault. What had I done? Why won't they race me? I pulled up next to a Supera. No thank you he must have said, you are old and weak. Then on the same road a 2015 Stingray. Nope, you are missing two cylinders and you are built like a box go back to the 80's he scoffed. I think he said that, not even a thumbs up. Jerk face. Well it must be me, it can't be Natasha cause she is smoking hot. Fast forward a little more.
Today was like any other day. Work then school. But on my way home it happened. Just like in the fairy tales I was told as a kid, it unfolded. We pass a gas station and I noticed a black Shelby GT500 was about to pull out. As I passed I rolled off the gas. The GT500 turn to follow us and took the bait. Hook, line, and sinker.
He pull up next to me and the passenger gave me a thumbs up. I reciprocated and smiled. Truthfully l was nervous. My foot was twitching above the gas pedal but I waited for him. Plus Natasha likes to be courted. I heard a surge of air being sucked into his car as he took the lead. The GT500 was just a car length away before I matched his pace. Natasha eagerly gained on him until I slowed down for traffic.
Knowing full well we where both game we went at it again. I pulled up next to him doing about 45 and launched it. Natasha left him just like she gained on him, real steady. We met at the light and he motioned me to roll down the window. That wouldn't have happened if I was in a lower gear, he said as he turned off the road.
Please, I was in overdrive.
