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lx-missile · 10-02-2004, 11:54 AM

This is an old story, but since no one else is posting here, I figured I'd give you guys (and gals) a laugh.

Right out of highschool went to a local dealership that had two cars I was interested in: a slightly used 87 Grand National and a new '87 LX ragtop 5.0. I actually wanted the GN, but was a day too late, so I drove (and bought) the 5 liter. Keep in mind, I was an 18 year old kid, with a mediocre job and not a dime to my name. Between paying my apartment rent and making the car payment, I was beyond broke every month, so I wasn't really able to do anything to the 'stang that required much money. The one item I wanted desperately but never got was a gear. This sled was geared 2.73, so pretty much anything could get a jump on me, but top end was OK.

Anyway, late one night me and my brother were out goofing around when I came up behind a Porsche at a light (it was a two lane road). As soon as my brother saw the car, he started goading me. I had no intention of racing, but being young and stupid, I let him talk me into it. I held the brake against the gas (power-braking is what we called it) and began to incinerate the gatorbacks. Tire smoke was starting to fill the air (it seemed like the light lasted for ever), and the back end of the 'stang was starting to come around.

Meanwhile, the dude in the Porsche (who had been minding his own business) was steady looking in his mirror at the idiot behind him. The light finally changed, and I released the brake. The back end of my LX started straightening out, but it was already too late. The Porsche was GONE. The most beautiful part was when he hung his hand out the window and waved bye to me!

Of couse, I wasn't going to give up, and knew it was about two miles or so to the next stop sign. I stayed in it, but the best I could do was keep him in sight. By the time we got to the sign, he was waiting on me, then proceeded to roast me again.

My brother was laughing hysterically while I was wishing I had never listened to him in the first place.

I shamefully relayed my story to a guy at work the next day, and after asking me a few questions (what color, what direction he went, etc.) he said he new the guy and that the dude raced Porsche's, and that one wasn't stock. I don't know if he was telling the truth or just trying to make me feel a little better, but I was glad to hear it either way. Nothing quite as bad as being humiliated by a hotrod VW.

10-02-2004, 11:54 AM	#1
lx-missile Registered Member Join Date: Sep 2004 Posts: 14	Killed by a Porsche. . . This is an old story, but since no one else is posting here, I figured I'd give you guys (and gals) a laugh. Right out of highschool went to a local dealership that had two cars I was interested in: a slightly used 87 Grand National and a new '87 LX ragtop 5.0. I actually wanted the GN, but was a day too late, so I drove (and bought) the 5 liter. Keep in mind, I was an 18 year old kid, with a mediocre job and not a dime to my name. Between paying my apartment rent and making the car payment, I was beyond broke every month, so I wasn't really able to do anything to the 'stang that required much money. The one item I wanted desperately but never got was a gear. This sled was geared 2.73, so pretty much anything could get a jump on me, but top end was OK. Anyway, late one night me and my brother were out goofing around when I came up behind a Porsche at a light (it was a two lane road). As soon as my brother saw the car, he started goading me. I had no intention of racing, but being young and stupid, I let him talk me into it. I held the brake against the gas (power-braking is what we called it) and began to incinerate the gatorbacks. Tire smoke was starting to fill the air (it seemed like the light lasted for ever), and the back end of the 'stang was starting to come around. Meanwhile, the dude in the Porsche (who had been minding his own business) was steady looking in his mirror at the idiot behind him. The light finally changed, and I released the brake. The back end of my LX started straightening out, but it was already too late. The Porsche was GONE. The most beautiful part was when he hung his hand out the window and waved bye to me! Of couse, I wasn't going to give up, and knew it was about two miles or so to the next stop sign. I stayed in it, but the best I could do was keep him in sight. By the time we got to the sign, he was waiting on me, then proceeded to roast me again. My brother was laughing hysterically while I was wishing I had never listened to him in the first place. I shamefully relayed my story to a guy at work the next day, and after asking me a few questions (what color, what direction he went, etc.) he said he new the guy and that the dude raced Porsche's, and that one wasn't stock. I don't know if he was telling the truth or just trying to make me feel a little better, but I was glad to hear it either way. Nothing quite as bad as being humiliated by a hotrod VW. Last edited by lx-missile; 10-02-2004 at 01:01 PM..