There I was, minding my own damned business on the 99 this a.m...cruise set at 80, Starbucks coffee in the cupholder, and Opie and Anthony on the XM. I approach the jellybean-looking ass end of an '06 Mitsubishi Eclipse GT V6, still wearing dealer plates, and slide over to to the left lane to pass it. Suddenly seeing it was about to be overtaken by a goat, the weasel driving the Mitsu puts his foot down.
I
hate that.
My foot gets heavier. Weird how that happens. He's pulling away. On, no. That won't do at all. I pop the stick towards the firewall and engage 5th....the pulling away decreases and is
very quickly arrested. I start reeling him in. The Overspeed chime reminds me that I have just hit 120...but my ear is more tuned to the song of the LS1 and to the possiblility of a Ka-band signalling
"Brap!" from the Valentine One. I come by the guy and give him a polite "Buh-bye now" wave as I negotiate the obstacle course of big rigs and farmworker rattletraps that I've quickly closed on.
Splash One Zero.
Getting to work, I accessed the Trip Computer page of the Garmin Que GPS on my phone. Top speed, 131 mph. The limiter of that Mitsu is at 134mph (yeah- I looked it up) so he ran out of balls before he ran out of software.
He passed me 15 miles or so up the road, just before the Grapevine climb on the 5. He didn't even look over.
Ah, just another commute.
