BY
roptop Snake
Had a nice night out, chilled at the corner with my wife and friends until we decided to break for food around 3am. Not a good time to do so -- IHOP was packed, Denny's looked like they were giving something away... every place was packed with nightclub evictees. We made the trek across town to another IHOP for food. I parked on the far side to make enough room for the 5 or 6 cars, and spotted a red Ferrari 360 Modena Spyder backed in all by itself at the back of the parking lot. Polished factory rims... just hot. I pulled out of my space and drove to the other side of the lot where everyone else had parked, and put the top up while my wife got out. I joked to Ron that I wished I knew who owned the Modena parked around the corner. Oops. Ron got fired up in a heartbeat.
“I’ll go in there and call that mf’er out right now!”
We walked inside and looked around. Someone said, “I think I know who’s car that is...” I looked to the far end section of the restaurant, and saw Shaquille O’Neal sitting there by himself. Suddenly there was $500 at Ron’s disposal, plucked from various pockets. Holy crap. I’m cool with the occasional run for fun, but that much money had me nervous as hell. We sat down to eat; the idea of walking up and asking him for a run thwarted by the two or three Orlando Police officers that arrived and hung out with O’Neal.
Breakfast was the usual late-night FS hilarity. By the time we were done, it looked like things were winding down in the section that Shaq’s crew occupied, so we dragged our feet getting to our cars. While we talked, a black 2002 SS convertible accelerated down the highway in front of the restaurant, geared down, made a U-turn, and went WOT in the opposite direction. I got curious and went to investigate, but couldn’t see where it went. We went back toward IHOP, and saw all the FS guys pulling out headed for home. I also saw Shaq at the front doors, so I rolled down the street a bit more before coming back to IHOP and hooking another U to sit at the stop sign. I heard the snarl from the Modena revving up behind the building. I waited until I saw it coming out behind me, then pulled out and headed for the left turn lane at the light. I pulled behind a car in the right lane to leave the left lane open, and dialed Ron’s cell phone. The Modena moved over into the lane behind me, then eased over to the left lane. I looked over as it approached, and Shaq looked back with a mischievous smirk and threw a rev as he coasted up to the crosswalk. My wife looked like she was about to jump out of her own skin. “Oh my God, is this really going to happen?” I smiled at her and checked her seatbelt, then handed her the phone and moved over behind the Modena to wait.
When the light turned, I followed the Ferrari around the corner and clicked into 2nd gear right after it did. The road ahead was 3 lanes wide and completely deserted. I moved right and pulled up even, looked over, and he went WOT. I stuck my foot in the water pump and pulled ahead by a half-car, then I heard the 360 drop from 2nd into 1st gear and start screaming. Damn, that motor sounded sweet. We both tore up the rise ahead of us. I wound out 2nd, clicked into 3rd and pulled ahead by two cars, then grabbed 4th as fast as I could. The Modena was still at WOT, but was slowly falling behind. I hit the brakes near the top of 4th gear with a 3-car lead, and slowed for the approaching light. It turned green before we got to it, so we kept pace with him slightly behind until the next light. My wife was screaming her head off, not believing her own eyes. Shaq pulled up on my left.
I looked over, unable to contain the grin. “Now THAT was fun.”
He smiled back. “Hell yeah, it was.”
I told him that I had seen him at the corner once, over a year ago, and had heard that he stopped by with one of his trikes powered by a supercharged small block. I reminded him of the location, and mentioned that we were out there every weekend. He said, “I might drop by next weekend.”
The light finally changed, and we rolled out in 1st, then he jumped back on the gas. I went WOT, spinning at the top of 1st gear, slammed 2nd and started to pull. The lead increased in 3rd, and I braked in the middle of 4th, again ahead by about 3 cars. Shaq rolled past, dropped to 3rd gear as he passed us, and popped the throttle a few times. I went back to 3rd, checked to see where I was in the powerband, and tapped the pedal. He went full throttle just before I did, and got out about a fender to a half-car before I began to reel him in. 3rd gear seemed to go on forever, and the sound of that Italian V-8... :hail: We pulled even, then slightly ahead, and I slammed 4th. The Cobra’s lead increased noticeably, and ended about 1 ½ to 2 cars ahead when I shut down. My right eardrum was just about blown from my wife’s excited screams by that time.
Shaq slowed and rolled past, looking straight ahead this time. I have a feeling I might’ve inspired either some mods for the Modena, or a trade-in for an F430...
I hit the brakes and jumped into a turn lane to head home, and blinked the lights to say goodbye. In the lights up ahead, I saw a peace sign held up about four or five feet over the Modena’s bodylines. Damn, that man’s arms are LONG.
Took my wife about 4 hours to calm down and go to sleep once we got home. She swore to me that she’d never say anything about money for the Cobra’s mods again.
roptop SnakeHad a nice night out, chilled at the corner with my wife and friends until we decided to break for food around 3am. Not a good time to do so -- IHOP was packed, Denny's looked like they were giving something away... every place was packed with nightclub evictees. We made the trek across town to another IHOP for food. I parked on the far side to make enough room for the 5 or 6 cars, and spotted a red Ferrari 360 Modena Spyder backed in all by itself at the back of the parking lot. Polished factory rims... just hot. I pulled out of my space and drove to the other side of the lot where everyone else had parked, and put the top up while my wife got out. I joked to Ron that I wished I knew who owned the Modena parked around the corner. Oops. Ron got fired up in a heartbeat.
“I’ll go in there and call that mf’er out right now!”
We walked inside and looked around. Someone said, “I think I know who’s car that is...” I looked to the far end section of the restaurant, and saw Shaquille O’Neal sitting there by himself. Suddenly there was $500 at Ron’s disposal, plucked from various pockets. Holy crap. I’m cool with the occasional run for fun, but that much money had me nervous as hell. We sat down to eat; the idea of walking up and asking him for a run thwarted by the two or three Orlando Police officers that arrived and hung out with O’Neal.
Breakfast was the usual late-night FS hilarity. By the time we were done, it looked like things were winding down in the section that Shaq’s crew occupied, so we dragged our feet getting to our cars. While we talked, a black 2002 SS convertible accelerated down the highway in front of the restaurant, geared down, made a U-turn, and went WOT in the opposite direction. I got curious and went to investigate, but couldn’t see where it went. We went back toward IHOP, and saw all the FS guys pulling out headed for home. I also saw Shaq at the front doors, so I rolled down the street a bit more before coming back to IHOP and hooking another U to sit at the stop sign. I heard the snarl from the Modena revving up behind the building. I waited until I saw it coming out behind me, then pulled out and headed for the left turn lane at the light. I pulled behind a car in the right lane to leave the left lane open, and dialed Ron’s cell phone. The Modena moved over into the lane behind me, then eased over to the left lane. I looked over as it approached, and Shaq looked back with a mischievous smirk and threw a rev as he coasted up to the crosswalk. My wife looked like she was about to jump out of her own skin. “Oh my God, is this really going to happen?” I smiled at her and checked her seatbelt, then handed her the phone and moved over behind the Modena to wait.
When the light turned, I followed the Ferrari around the corner and clicked into 2nd gear right after it did. The road ahead was 3 lanes wide and completely deserted. I moved right and pulled up even, looked over, and he went WOT. I stuck my foot in the water pump and pulled ahead by a half-car, then I heard the 360 drop from 2nd into 1st gear and start screaming. Damn, that motor sounded sweet. We both tore up the rise ahead of us. I wound out 2nd, clicked into 3rd and pulled ahead by two cars, then grabbed 4th as fast as I could. The Modena was still at WOT, but was slowly falling behind. I hit the brakes near the top of 4th gear with a 3-car lead, and slowed for the approaching light. It turned green before we got to it, so we kept pace with him slightly behind until the next light. My wife was screaming her head off, not believing her own eyes. Shaq pulled up on my left.
I looked over, unable to contain the grin. “Now THAT was fun.”
He smiled back. “Hell yeah, it was.”
I told him that I had seen him at the corner once, over a year ago, and had heard that he stopped by with one of his trikes powered by a supercharged small block. I reminded him of the location, and mentioned that we were out there every weekend. He said, “I might drop by next weekend.”
The light finally changed, and we rolled out in 1st, then he jumped back on the gas. I went WOT, spinning at the top of 1st gear, slammed 2nd and started to pull. The lead increased in 3rd, and I braked in the middle of 4th, again ahead by about 3 cars. Shaq rolled past, dropped to 3rd gear as he passed us, and popped the throttle a few times. I went back to 3rd, checked to see where I was in the powerband, and tapped the pedal. He went full throttle just before I did, and got out about a fender to a half-car before I began to reel him in. 3rd gear seemed to go on forever, and the sound of that Italian V-8... :hail: We pulled even, then slightly ahead, and I slammed 4th. The Cobra’s lead increased noticeably, and ended about 1 ½ to 2 cars ahead when I shut down. My right eardrum was just about blown from my wife’s excited screams by that time.
Shaq slowed and rolled past, looking straight ahead this time. I have a feeling I might’ve inspired either some mods for the Modena, or a trade-in for an F430...
I hit the brakes and jumped into a turn lane to head home, and blinked the lights to say goodbye. In the lights up ahead, I saw a peace sign held up about four or five feet over the Modena’s bodylines. Damn, that man’s arms are LONG.
Took my wife about 4 hours to calm down and go to sleep once we got home. She swore to me that she’d never say anything about money for the Cobra’s mods again.
