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The day I fell in love

nicad 22/06/2022 51

Vous souvenez-vous de la première fois où vous êtes tombé amoureux? Je suis prêt. C'est une beauté d'acier de Detroit. Je n'aime pas beaucoup les couleurs, mes amis se moquent du vert de ma grand-mère, mais je n'ai pas honte ; ok-au début j'étais. Mon premier amour était une Buick Regal 1984, 2 portes, avec quelques modifications cachées. Mes parents l'ont ouvert pendant quelques années après l'avoir acheté à un ami d'un ami, et c'est ma main. Je ne viens pas d'une grande famille automobile, et je n'ai pas de mécanicien ou de collectionneur, donc elle était un peu incomprise.Le jour où je suis tombé amoureux

When I started to learn to drive, I didn't want to be seen by going through my neighborhood in it, but once you get rid of a riding hood, I knew there must have been something more.I obtained my driving license with a cold day in December in North Carolina.The streets, still covered with ice, were half deserted, so on a country road, I opened it for the first time, and she liked it.The tires have slipped behind me, because of the ice I am sure, and I must admit that I was afraid!I had never driven quickly or was in a car driven quickly, and I felt a rush cross my body and slam my right foot down.I looked in the rear view and saw a black puff out of the exhaust while she clears her throat.His favorite roads had beautiful curves highlighted by long straight lines.

The speed counter, like everything else inside, was suitable for a grandmother, oversized figures that were only 88 mph. The pale green velvet front bench which was divided so that people could enter the back prevented me from sliding on the passenger seat during the turns. The radio was analog with a dial and 5 "preset" buttons which were all set to the same station. It was an automatic; I couldn't yet drive a manual. I had to be careful because it was automatic; If I pressed too hard on the gases with the brake, she was caught. I discovered that trying to learn to make a burnout. The only frills was an ashtray that conscientiously hid the butts of my secret rebellion. I did not pump it with the exception of an original steel hubcap set to cover the black steel wheels. I kept it as incognito as possible, just like I was.

While I was sitting in the red light on a popular street in my hometown a sleeping Saturday evening, a comparable age camaro pulled by my side.A guy from my school sat behind the wheel and gave me the international face of "Wanna Race" when he turned his engine.I gripped the leather steering wheel and I sat there.If I did the same thing, she would leave me in plan, but I knew she was up to her challenge;Our first try.Many people would "lead hard" on this section, we did not call it street races, it was illegal.The fire went to green and the kid at the Réporce sports scar barked his tires while he was jumping the line to fight.But I knew what my grandmother was sleeping could do.I just held my foot to the ground while I felt the wind of the transmission and went to the next speed when I accelerated.

This section was popular because the lights went green successively and opened half a thousand of the 6-road.There were six lights in total from the start to the "finish line" next to the local spare parts house.The gear heads remained parked there all night just to call the winners and losers and provide them with the appropriate insults if necessary.I worked at McDonalds and I had not yet entered their world.

We crossed under the second light.I looked at him through his passenger window.He was not happy at all.Four lights on the left.We stayed quite close for a while, but my daughter was a palangon;The more she had a space to run, the faster she would be.When I went under the sixth fire, he was nearly two car lengths behind me.I shouted because no one could hear me.

My heart was beating so hard that I could hear the bass bangs in my ears.I have never even seen the blue lights light up after crossing the line.The Camaro escaped in a side street towards the safety of unlit country roads while I parked in an empty parking lot.An unknown anxiety wave has struck;This time fueled by fear, embarrassment and uncertainty.The acute speakers yelled "Highway to Hell" when the officer approached my window.I was paralyzed to look at her figure grow in my mirror;During all this time, he adjusted his hat.When he struck at my window, I was released from my fate and I rolled the window that separated us, always looking straight ahead.

"Do you know how fast you go, Mandie?"He knew my name.I looked up and saw a family friend under the hat.I started to breathe again by replying: "No, my counter stops at 88 ..." He let out the boldest laugh by opening my door to let me go out.He had timed me at 102 miles per hour in my "grandmother cruiser", this is how my friends called him.He opened the hood to take a look.I didn't even know how to do it yet.We walked to the front while he was talking about trying to calm my nerves.He showed me how to release the massive steel hood and he flew.A small light turned on when he inspected the chrome beast that was hiding there.My eyes were growing as they reflected the brilliant facade which made all this power.He pushed and turned on his light and mumbled for himself.

"Mandie, did you have this David car?"he asked me, placing his hands on the ledge of the hood above his head."I think that's where Papa got it ..." I answered with all the certainty of a 16-year-old girl who still descends from the top of the race and the fear of the sweater.He knew the car.She had a small 400 block instead of 6 factory cylinders.The 14 -inch chromed top hat hid its 4 barrel carburetor and its HII ignition.The polished valve covers covered oversized flat pistons and an orifice and a polished head.I had no idea at the time of what he said and he knew it, so he just said "that means that you will go quickly."I already knew !

He closed the hood and put the beast backwards.He said he would tell my father that I have to slow down, but he will not give me a ticket or will not put my car on a pound.Then he came back to the place where I was still standing next to her, a little shocked, and said: "No recording, excellent work.I have seen everything."My face has blushed, I ricked nervously and I slapped it.Pull the top of the girls.The crowd in the room store saw him leave, so I left.They discover every weekend that I want to see if I can beat.No one knows what I brought to the game. They nicknamed my "slut" green pea machine.A few months later, I told him in a revenge match with the Camaro in the summary, but his legend still circulates in the street, and the beginning of the story is generally "you remember that once run here in oleGreen Bitch? "It was my first love, and he is still incomparable.

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