Many times, when I was walking the street, I raced the cars that passed me. I made it my mission to keep up with a car until it turned onto another street or stopped. One day, after I’d chased a blue minivan all the way to my friend’s house, my friend’s older sister was on the porch. “Why do you do that? You know those people are laughing at you?” That was the end of my street racing career.
Just added to The List and the Story: Against the Eighties