Monday, November 16, 2009

Day Tripper

(But black)

Over the last 14 years that my girlfriends and I have been making the trek out to the outlet mall for our annual holiday shopping trip, I have always done the drive with another friend. Due to timing and logistics, Sunday was the first time I drove up alone to meet the others.

There was a little light traffic in the San Fernando Valley. I drove in the number three lane of the four lanes of the 101 freeway, listening to the Breakfast With the Beatles radio show. I had the Honda Civic hybrid’s cruise control set to 67mph, two miles per hour over the speed limit because I’m a rebel like that.

I was belting out Day Tripper when a black sports car suddenly appeared in my rear view mirror. The car was following me so closely, I couldn’t see its headlights. The black car stayed behind me for half a minute or so and then passed me on the right. The shiny Lamborghini Gallardo then slowed to keep a pace that was just ahead of me by half a car length. I didn’t believe the driver of the $200,000.00 car was inviting me of the $20,000.00 (but excellent gas mileage) dusty sedan to a street race, nor did I harbor any illusions that the driver was flirting with my messy ponytail and me. Something odd was going on. I felt like I was playing Grand Theft Auto, if Grand Theft Auto included a sleepy-suburban-mom-with-coffee-breath avatar.

After a full minute of this, the Lamborghini abruptly took off so fast it seemed to double its speed in just a few feet. It crossed a lane and headed down the off ramp at Woodlake Avenue and vanished. A few seconds later, a highway patrol car sped past on my left, and it continued north on the freeway. It then occurred to me that the fancy car had been using my Honda as a shield to hide from the CHP, and when he got close enough to an exit, he had made a successful escape.

My heart was still beating a little faster than usual as I sipped from my coffee travel mug and contemplated my L.A. driving moment. Gradually, my attention returned to my outlet mall destination and my friends and the deals that awaited us. Oh, the deals.

Sunday driver, yeah.


  1. My heart would have been beating a little quicker knowing that Ponch and John were nearby. Do they all wear very tight khaki pants or was that just an Estrada thing?

  2. HA! That's pretty funny. I've always had really big trucks and nobody's ever used me as a shield before. You should feel honored!

    I have a friend with one of those Gallardos. But it's yellow and he's on the other coast. And he won't let me drive it.