The Chase

            The first car I owned was a 1994 Ford Thunderbird.  It wasn’t a luxurious car but I always kept her clean and shiny.  I started driving when I was eighteen and like many other young people I was a wild driver.  Since it was a V8 it responded the way I wanted it to, smooth and fast.  I loved how she was obedient because I didn’t let people cut me off or try to go faster than me.  I loved the speed and power I gained over others and yet although some of my dangerous driving habits have changed I sometimes catch myself going over speed limits because I am used to thinking and feeling I am not going so fast… 85 mph may be the fastest I will go but with the Thunderbird I would often hit ten miles more.

            Though my car was old it was not beat up and I never felt embarrassed since after all I still had transportation.  My best friends, Francisco and Gladys, always made jokes about our driving experiences and how I would go crazy when people would drive too slow or cut me off.  Crystal, the most stuck up girl in school came along to say, “I have a Mustang girl so I don’t think you can keep up.”  The worst thing someone could do to me at the time was tempt me to race.  Francisco and Gladys stared at me as the vein in my forehead jumped from anger because they knew of how I could respond.  “Crystal, stop messing around and go away!” said Gladys.  Francisco, the class clown, was usually my passenger so he responded, “Girrrl please!  Your pony can’t catch a lamb…though you may have a Mustang you ain’t got the skills to keep up with my little one and her Baby Blue.”  He snapped his fingers and pulled me away from her.  Even though I was extremely angry I never got the chance to humiliate Crystal.

            After graduating high school, Francisco and I began to attend Los Angeles Harbor College down in Wilmington, California.  Of course we would carpool since we would get out of class at the same time.  The city doesn’t have a great reputation so I was always cautious of my surroundings.  One day when I was driving Francisco home I noticed that a black suspicious car was following me.  At first I wasn’t sure but I decided to make random turns and sure enough the person was following me.  I got a bit nervous since I’ve heard about drive by shootings but anger dominated my fear because traffic would get in my way and I couldn’t lose the car.  I made another turn and I realized I had driven into an alley, “Damn!” I remember thinking.  It was like a Starsky and Hutch or Dukes of Hazzard scene seeing as I sped through the alley.  At one point a dumpster nearly blocked my path and Francisco screamed, “YOU’RE NOT GONNA MAKE IT!” I proved him wrong.  I swerved through it and managed to get back on the streets but I came across a stop sign.   That was the only stop sign in the intersection so I couldn’t continue driving because parked cars blocked my view and I wasn’t sure if other cars were coming towards the intersection.  The black car catches up and pulls to my side.  Frustrated I turn towards the driver.  The passenger is wearing dark shades and shows me her police badge.  “You assholes!”  I pulled over and the male officer told me I was avoiding the law and went back to the undercover cop car.  I was ready to argue if they handed me a ticket.  I didn’t know a cop was following me and I wasn’t speeding before.  The cop came back and told me to drive safely.  If it wasn’t for the badge and stop sign I wouldn’t have stopped. 

 Diana