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Guy doesn't freak out or anything, quite the contrary. Do you remember the first ride you had in a genuinely fast car? For me it would have been 1996, a dark green HCI '87 Hatch on Centerline fat and skinny Autodrags. In 1999 I would sell my 1969 Dodge Charger to buy it, and then a guy blew through a red light at Pleasant Ridge and Cooper in a new Caddy and tore the front end off of it 4 months later. I've had a lot of bad luck with green Mustangs on Cooper Street.
"Don't put this on Youtube," the driver's next door neighbor pleads, but to be honest, this sort of pure glee, this sort of pure joy, this sort of pure, unadulterated, transformative happiness can't not be shown throughout the world. It's infectious and intoxicating.
The man in the passenger seat, Dave, looks like the sort of mild-mannered, avuncular type you'd see anywhere, being a neighbor. Maybe he's an accountant, or some sort of civil servant. Maybe he's even a VP of supply chain logistics at his company.
He's never been in a truly fast car before, and he's certainly never been in a Mustang. He looks nervous, apprehensive. Hopefully everything will be safe, and nothing will go wrong, and his punk next door neighbor, JD, who he doesn't really know that well, and can't even have a real name beyond his initials, won't get arrested by the cops. And then he won't have to go home to tell his wife, Carol, what happened.
He's "scared," he says.
Enter a Ford Shelby GT500, with 683 glorious horsepower.
JD rides the throttle a bit stronger than usual at first, but when he really lights up the tires, the smile that spreads across Dave's face is magical.
That's the power of speed.
"Don't put this on Youtube," the driver's next door neighbor pleads, but to be honest, this sort of pure glee, this sort of pure joy, this sort of pure, unadulterated, transformative happiness can't not be shown throughout the world. It's infectious and intoxicating.
The man in the passenger seat, Dave, looks like the sort of mild-mannered, avuncular type you'd see anywhere, being a neighbor. Maybe he's an accountant, or some sort of civil servant. Maybe he's even a VP of supply chain logistics at his company.
He's never been in a truly fast car before, and he's certainly never been in a Mustang. He looks nervous, apprehensive. Hopefully everything will be safe, and nothing will go wrong, and his punk next door neighbor, JD, who he doesn't really know that well, and can't even have a real name beyond his initials, won't get arrested by the cops. And then he won't have to go home to tell his wife, Carol, what happened.
He's "scared," he says.
Enter a Ford Shelby GT500, with 683 glorious horsepower.
JD rides the throttle a bit stronger than usual at first, but when he really lights up the tires, the smile that spreads across Dave's face is magical.
That's the power of speed.
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