| this is not cbring |
12-09-2002 10:51 AM |
this is not cbring almosts gets first manslaughter
i don't really know what i expect as far as comments, but a camaro guy is the bad guy and it involves a mustang, so i thought i'd share. enjoy, or don't enjoy, if you'd like:
Quote:
i went to spend some to with my parents and my monte carlo today. my dad told me about a 71-73 Mach 1 Mustang for sale in the area, so i set out to buy gas and look at a mach 1.
i gas up the dub ($1.369 for 93 octane) and then begin to exit the gas station. the gas station shares an exit/entrance with the hardee's next door. i get in the right turn lane behind a truck. the truck sees an opening in traffic and pulls out on the highway. as i begin to ease up to the stop sign, a new red camaro ss that is exiting the highway tries to pull into the hardees by going in front of me. he slams his brakes and comes to a stop about a foot from my driver-side door. he stares at me, waves his fist, backs up, and as he is going around me, he flips me off. for what its worth, the camaro has a rebel flag front vanity plate and an NRA sticker on his car. stuff like this incident happens pretty frequent in traffic, so i think no big deal. i turn right on the highway in quest of the Mach 1.
the Mach 1 is parked at a car lot/wrecker service/junkyard/repair service. there are several incomplete cars and a few complete ones. i park on the side of the road, get out and look at the Mach 1. it is a mustard color and looks like it has been wrecked in the day. the body is pretty wavy, so i assume it has its share of bondo.
as i'm giving the mustang a thorough look-over, i hear the rumble of a v8. i look up and the same camaro has pulled up behind my car. hmmm, that's odd. i watch him as he gets out of his car. it is an older (than me) gentleman, about 45-50 years old. he has a mullet and a huge chaw in his mouth. he agressively begins walking towards me. as he approaches me, he says to me in an aggressive tone:
"no phuckin' wigger is gonna cut me off, i'll teach you, you punk."
even though i fully believe that the previous incident was entirely his fault, i'm not one for trouble, so i reply:
"i'm sorry it happened"
he continues to approach me. thankfully, there happens to be a piece of solid lead pipe (about 18 inches long) lying on the ground next to the mustang. i reached down and grab the pipe. About the time he gets within a few steps of me, i cock back the pipe, ready to give his head a whackin'. he cowers back, mutters "you look like a phuckin' n!gger" and runs back to his car and drives off. whew, i almost pissed myself.
when i got back to my parents, i went up in the attic and got my old tee ball bat. it now resides under my passenger seat with a ball and a glove.
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