Growing Up A Car Guy: The Bitch

I bought my first car when I was 14 years old and my best friend Roman and I spent just about our entire youth building, racing, and goofing off in cars. Most of them classic muscle cars and later import tuner cars (Pre-Fast & Furious Era). I was sitting around chatting with my buddy about our old cars and the subject of our greatest rival came up. We don't even know his name, but he was simply known to us as "The Bitch" because his daddy gave him a sweet Falcon Sprint Convertible with a hot small block in it, while we built our own cars.

I don't remember the exact moment when it happened, but "The Bitch" at some point had slighted us, I think by blowing off our initial advance as mutual car guys to be friends. We were 16 was on from that point forward. Roman had just finished dropping a nice 351W with a 4 speed top loader in his 66 Shelby Mustang Fastback GT350 tribute car, so it was time to bait "The Bitch" into a race. Conveniently he lived about a block and half from Roman's place so we headed over to see him in Romans fastback, he was in the garage hanging out with his Falcon...we decided that the best way to get his attention was to leave some nice 11's in front of his house. But it was to no avail he would not come out and play... later that week at about 1AM he decided to back his Falcon onto Roman's parents front lawn and leave his own mark. It would be a few weeks before we interacted again.

I was driving my 1967 Galaxie 500 Fastback with a 390ci V8 when I happened to pull up next to "The Bitch" and a young lady at a Red light. Having recently had my head filled with stories of talking smak car to car from Larry the owner of the shop I worked at part time. I pulled out one of his lines. "Hey Bitch" his girlfriend assumed I was talking to her and looked pissed, I looked over and said "no not you I mean the Bitch behind the wheel of that cute little Falcon" that got him, he was fuming. I continued "next time you don't have a lady in the car, perhaps we can see what that cute little car can do" he just kept staring forward gripping the wheel turning red. The light turned Green and I took off. For a moment I was Milner from American Graffiti. He pulled off on a side street, a few weeks later he was busted at the local street races, Roman and were in a different car so he did not recognize us and we were smart enough to book it when we heard the helicopter coming.

It had been about a year with no major interactions between us and "The Bitch" when out of nowhere he drives by the house while we are working in the garage and flips us the bird. Roman was ready to drive over and start hostilities again, however coolers heads prevailed and we kept working on one of the many cars we were playing with. A few days later he drove by and started cussing us out and quickly drove away. Roman had sold the GT350 and now had a black 300ZX Twin Turbo. "The Bitch" had not seen it yet as it was always tucked into the garage.

A week went by and his car was in the driveway and it looked bad, the whole back half was smashed up good. Turns out he decided that he need more street cred so after bolting a massive (Dodge) hood scoop on his his Falcon convertible he went out to the Ontario Street Races, this is now in the Post-Fast & Furious era so the small group of car guys had been replaced with thousands of posers. He slid out of control and crashed into the curb and some landscaping in the industrial park. Roman decided that it was time for a dose of shame. The Black Z came out of the garage, with the windows up you could hardly see inside, we pulled around the corner and over to his house. He was beating out the back fender of the car so it would stop rubbing on the wheel. Roman stepped on the gas and started to burn out, smoke pouring from the tires, "The Bitch" stands up and walks towards the street, as Roman rolls down the window (tires still smoking) and says "HAY BITCH" the look on his face was priceless. The 300ZX was the holy grail of the 1990's and here we were in not just a Z but a Twin Turbo Z. He retreated in shame back to his damaged Falcon.

The Falcon never got restored properly, it was one of those sad cars that a father gave to a kid that did not understand or appreciate it. Yeah it was stupid, yeah it was immature, but hey it was High School, and it was really fun at the time. We all eventually moved away as we went off to College, but I think eveyone needs to have an archenemy at some point.