Hot Rod
"So there I was, see cruising down P.C.H. at about two in the morning, when suddenly this really bright light comes flashing down on me like a circle of daylight." He said to me as we worked under the Saturday afternoon sun, washing off his Hot Rod.
"So who was it, the cops?" I asked as his stories were usualy centered around either a street race or a brush with the Law.
"Well, that's what I thought at first, that I'd been pinned by a CHP chopper, and that next thing I'd hear was an order to pull over and stop my car. But no, just as quick the light shut off.."
"And?" I prompted, reaching for the hose to rinse off the hood.
"Well, next thing I knew, this thing comes floating down out of the sky and falls in behind me on the road."
"Which was it a helicopter or an airplane?"
"Neither one, it was like a spaceship. a real UFO!" he replied grabbing a dry rag from the buket on the front walk.
"No way!"
"Really! Well anyhow, I like pull my car over one lane, and it pulls up beside me and just hangs there, floating along down the road." he stated, making a floating motion with a damp rag.
"So what did you do?"
"Well, I slowed down, cause I wanted to see it's back"
"And?"
"It slowed down too, right along with me until finally we had both pulled off the road and stopped."
"So?"
"Well, I got out of my car and walked towards it to kind of check it out, and I was sort of humming the theme from ET or what ever that Stephen Speilburg movie is, you know, the one about the martians in arizona, De Da Do Doo Deee."
"Yea, Close Encounters?" I supplied.
"That's it. Well, anyways, just as I got up to it it made this hiss sound, like the doors on the old Star Trek tv show, and a big hole opened up in the side."
"Wow! Then what?"
"Well, I was sorta surprised, so I kinda jumped back a little and held my breath, as this dude in a leather jacket climbed out, a real Hells Angles type, you know?"
"Really? A Biker dude from Mars? No way." I responded, grabbing the last dry towel from the walkway.
"Yea, well he kind of looked me over, then he reached for his belt, and sort of twisted it, and next thing I knew, he was dressed just like me!"
"No way! Same hair and everything?"
"No, just the jeans, t-shirt and Levi Jacket. But anyhow, he said something real weird and then his belt started talking to me!"
"Yea? what did it say?"
"It said, `Hello there young human, you have a nice vehicle there, would you care to race?'"
"No shit?" I asked, rubbing down the hood, and starting a final inspection for any remaing spots.
"Really! Well anyhow I told him that I wouldn't mind, but would it really be fair for me to go up against a space ship? His belt garbled back at him and he thought for a couple of seconds, then mumbled to his belt which said that it should be fair, providing that he stayed in contact with the ground instead of flying, and pointed down at the landing gear on his UFO. It had wheels, just like a Plane."
"Uh huh." I said, letting just the first bit of doubt sarcasticly creap into my voice, as this story was getting sillier and sillier.
"Well, I thought about it for a moment, and walked around looking at his ship a couple of times, and then I told him ok."
"So did he race you?"
"Yea, we both got back in our vehicles, and rolled on down to the next light, me in the center lane and him in the left lane. Anyhow we waited for the light to change, then we were off..."
"Yea, so what happened?" I asked reaching for a Soda from the old cooler he had sitting on the lawn, and leaning back in the shade of the old tree which grew over next to his front porch. Silly or not this was the best whopper I had ever heard from him, and probably the first one which if I called him on it, he wouldn't be able to prove.
"Well I got the drop on him and crossed the street first, but he was gaining pretty quick. I nearly lost it going into second, and he passed me right after I shifted into third. We were going two miles, and he was a car length ahead and we had gone a mile and a quarter when I was just getting into fifth at about one-twenty." He spoke fast, his eyes gleaming as he always did when recounting a race. The fact that he sounded so normal made me wonder again, just how often the tales he told were true at all, rather than just embelished.
"Wow, so I guess he won, right?"
"Nope cause just as we passed the one and a half mile mark, I hit my Nitrous, and picked up some extra distance. As I passed the two mile point, he was level with my front tire, and we were doing about one-eighty. I won, but just barely!"
"Wow! Too bad nobody's gonna believe you, but it sure makes a hell of a story! Better than most I have heard from you!"
"Why shouldn't anybody believe me?"
"Well, for one thing the story sounds like a cheap Sci-Fi, and for another thing, you got no proof..." finally calling him on one of his racing whoppers.
"What do you mean, no proof, didn't I tell you?"
"Tell me what?" I asked.
"That the race was for Pinks???" he replied, hitting his garage door controler.
As the door went up, my soda hit my lap and seaped into my jeans.
I never even noticed.