Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Exotic supercars and the fake bomb

I think this was either the second or third Auto Expo.

The Doberman, Hammar, NewShit, Kattu, Puffy and self had hired a taxi to get us till the fair and back. Hammar and self were the oldest at roughly 20; the rest were still in school or just started college.
The front passenger seat had a spring sticking out of it, so the last person we picked up, NewShit had to sit up front and direct the driver as well.
This particular Auto Expo was pretty memorable.
Saw my first Ferrari in the flesh. A Testarossa but so what. Even convinced one of the chicks at the stall to let us in so that we could take pictures with the car.
I remember NewShit trying to lick the hood, but don't remember why he was doing it.

After a few hours of walking around, leching shamelessly at both the cars and the women, we decided we'd seen enough of both.
At the gate of the parking lot, NewShit says, "Hey, I'm not sitting in front again."
Hammar comes up with a, "Ok, we'll race from here to the car. Whoever gets there last will have to sit up front."

What we didn't know, is that while we were inside ogling at painted metal, some enterprising young men had phoned in a bomb threat. Apparently said the suspect was wearing a black jacket.
All six of us were wearing black. We didn't know any better.

Anyway, we do our "on your mark...get set.." and are off running through the lot.
We're about halway there, when we hear a megaphone shouting something, but the wind and garbled hiss of the speaker renders instructions useless.

The next thing I hear are a few sharp cracks and a high-pitched whooooosh near my ear.
Before I can look around, a vice-like hand collars me from behind, wrenching my arms behind me and throwing me to the mud.
I look up and it's an extremely pissed-off cop.
Lying face-first down, with mud on my face and on my specs and I spot the others being similarly treated.

The cops haul us to where an important-looking policeman is standing, glaring at us.
"Why were you running?" he asks, still looking down his nose at us, while also barking orders into his walkie-talkie.
We explained.
All he did was stare at us with an incredulous expression before he and his cronies burst into guffawing laughter.


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