I'm cruising home after some errands this afternoon and pull up behind a Challenger SRT8. Despite the fact that I've sat in this car and it's a tub, it does look really nice in black, very American muscle.
My new friend and I swap order and then come up to the next light (I think I saw a soul-patch on the guy but them it may have just been that Dolphins Crying was on the radio). I'm thinking... this guy has 470 horses, 460+ foot pounds and that racing him isn't a good idea. But I'm curious...
We soon find ourselves rolling at 30 mph and I decide to see if I can leave this guy. Logic be damned I floor it.... wait wait... third (MT6)... wait... fourth... I look behind me and my friend is a total of 10 feet from my rear bumper.
We are approaching a couple cars and I slide into the left lane from the right and then decide to lift as (and this is an important detail) we are in a 45 mph zone. No need to kill any families, I'm thinking. As I lift I hear this thunderous roar coming around the far left, and by farI mean on the other side of the double yellow. It's the black mamba roaring around. Soon there is a Dikembe Mutombo finger wave saluting me from an open sunroof (the finger also had a soul patch).
Now I've been on the track with the SRT8 and lapped them up with relative ease (track has lots of corners and short straights), but I'll admit I was pretty impressed with the sound and menacing street speed of a 47k car.
I hope the next M3 gives me the 400 foot pounds so my Bravarian ego can aviod these minor distractions...
