I grew up in south central Massachusetts. You may ask, what do you do with your free time when you are growing up in a small rural town in Massachusetts? Well, when we were young, mostly we rode our bicycles around the neighborhood and around town to escape our boredom. As we grew up and became licensed drivers, we expanded our roaming to other towns.

One of the big Friday and Saturday night events in nearby [url=http://www.worcester.ma.us/]Worcester[/url] (the second largest town in New England!) was cruising up and down Main Street. The city is endowed with a long main drag that some genius had designed with u-turns at each end. This lead to hordes of local youth endlessly driving up and down the street searching for a carload of members of the opposite sex.

Nothing ever happened for us – I mean, what were you supposed to do after you yelled “Hey cutie, where you going tonight?” That attractive young lady and her friends were going the same place you were – to the end of the road and then back down Main Street! One time, a bunch of us were riding in the back of my friend’s pickup truck and we managed to convince these five girls to follow us over the library parking lot. Once we parked, our conversation consisted of them saying that they were going to head back to Grafton (or wherever the hell they were from) and us asking if they wanted to come to our place to hang out.

My friends and I would usually head out and, choosing the coolest car, proceed to the city and scope out the scene. Worcester is more than just cruising – Main Street is the home of several dance clubs, a few bars, a movie theater, many homeless folks and various other businesses. But, we were too young to go to the bars and too cool to lower ourselves to going to the movies.

One Saturday night, Pete and myself were the only two who were around so we decided to take my car ([url=http://don.oninohana.com/images/stang.jpg]1991 Mustang LX 5.0[/url] – my dream car and a real beauty, I may add) and see what was happening on Main Street. As I stopped at one of several traffic signals on the drag, a rumbling, rust-riddled,10 year old station wagon pulled up alongside my car. I glanced over at the passengers hoping to see an attractive young lady. What I saw was a pimply faced 19 year old guy staring at me from the passenger seat of this vehicle. I looked back to check the status of the light and then glanced over to the station wagon again. Now both the driver and the passenger are staring at me. I kind of give a smile and a nod to acknowledge them (and hopefully get them to stop staring!).

Pimply-faced-passenger-dude says “What’s so f**kin’ funny?”

Taken aback, but feeling pretty invincible in my new Mustang, I say “Your car is pretty f**king funny.”

Now Pimply-faced-driver-dude leans forward and points to the side of the road as the traffic light turns green and says “Pull over up there, a**hole.”

I look over at Pete as we pull away from the light. He’s looking a little apprehensive so I say “Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen.”

I edge my car up to the curb as the pimple-mobile pulls up behind me. I unbuckle my seatbelt and watch in the rear-view mirror as Pimply-faced-driver-dude gets out of his car and begins walking towards my vehicle. I open my door a little bit as he draws closer to give the illusion that I am getting out of the car. Just as he reaches the back of my car, I slam the door closed and push the gas pedal to the floor!

My car tears away from the curb and back into the street leaving two black strips on the pavement. Pete and I laugh and ceremoniously flip our two would-be “assailants” the bird as we accelerate away into the night.