1997, Augusta GA. Pulled up to a light at the start of the Riverfront Expressway. 1965 Impala SS, 454 BB, 448HP. My Impala was low, dark, wide, and deadly. The idiot should have noticed the raised yellow lettering on the 15" wide Goodyear's. The idiot was in a 1966 'Vette convertible. He says " Lets Go!!" I replied, " Your funeral pal." So he winds up the little 327 and I open the cutouts and drown him out with big block madness. The light changes and he dumps the clutch. Away he goes, just a smokin and a squealing. Little did he know, as I did, that just around the curve ahead 1/2 mile was a sheriff substation where they kept a highway intercept car 24/7. They didn't want any racing on the new expressway. Period. So anyway, he goes barreling around the curve smack into a blue light special...his foot tickling the carb. I was careful not to spin the meats at all. I cruised around there at the speed limit and they had him pulled and out of the car almost. Another cruiser pulled me over too. He comes up to the car window and says " Racing on the street huh?" I says, "uhh no officer...but that idiot sure was." He cocked his campaign hat back on his head and squinted at me. " Riight" he says. I said, " feel free to smell the rear of my car for burnt tire smoke officer."
He walks back and checks me out and comes back and says, " What does that prove?" I replied, " Mind if I open the hood?" He says sure, go ahead...
So I did and showed him the beast chained in there. He looks it over good and says, " So?"
My reply? " Officer...do you really think that with this much horsepower if I had wanted to race that idiot in the 'Vette you would have seen HIM coming round the curve first, and that my car would not smell of a lot of burned rubber?"
He considered it and said, " Have a nice day sir." And walked away shaking his head...No ticket for me. That time anyway...
.. I pulled into a driveway and waited for the light to change before I could leave. 
