What a moron
I was on my way home, the second half of my daily 188-mile commute. I'm on a local toll road in Houston, TX, cruise control set at 75, listening to my classic rock; it's around 21:00.
I'm in the left lane in my '04 , dark red Intrepid SXT. Coming up in the right lane is a brand-new Charger in Dark Red, the word "Hemi" plastered all over it. And it is the same exact shade of dark red. He must have been going 65 or 70, because over the course of a few minutes I gain on him and pull even.
He looks over at me, revs his engine and shoots ahead a couple of hundred feet. Then he slows down till he's behind me again and stomps on the gas and passes me up again. He does this like four or five times, displaying an inverse maturity-to-vehicle-cost ratio.
I ignore him. I've got the cruise set where I want it and nobody is in front of me and I'm going as fast as I intend to go. Screw racer-boy, I'm on my way home. I wouldn't have raced him even if we had been evenly matched. Let him tell all his buddies how he blew past a V6 Intrepid, I don't care as long as he does not get in front of me and slow down.
Eventually, he feels he has made his point, and to punctuate it a bit further, he goes tearing off into the distance at what must have been near 100mph. All of this on public streets, at night, in traffic. Light traffic, but still, what a moron.
And then God made His presence known. And He told me He loved me. For in the distance behind me, lights-a-flashin', comes a cop, fast, fast, fast. I pull over to the right-hand lane to let him by, and as he passes me by, he gives me a salute.
About ten minutes later I caught up to them. Racer boy and several cop cars all on the side of the road. I bet the car gets impounded and racer boy gets to spend the night at the city jail.
Maybe in the future he'll confine his racing to a track, and not a public street. That hemi sure did sound cool, I'll give him that. What a moron.