Impressed? I don’t think so.

Last weekend I had a very enjoyable date night ending with a late night trip to Starbucks for a post dinner cappuccino.

The car park near Starbucks is often frequented by a motley crew of giggling teenage girls attended by a group of lads trying impress with their machinery.  You know the sort of thing – hatchbacks with outrageously large end cans and Ford F-150 trucks sporting huge chrome pipes rising vertically from behind the cab.

Tonight was no exception and we had to navigate past this pool of hormones to make our way home.  Since I have pretty decent car I was treated to the assembled crowd shouting “BURN OUT!” at the top of their lungs and, since I was in a good mood and feeling mischievous, I thought “Ahh…Why not?”  I was, after all, renowned for my ability to rear wheel steer my car with ease at the many car control events I had attended. This was going to be a piece of cake…

Making a right turn onto the main exit road I gunned the engine handily and popped the clutch, fully expecting the familiar feeling of a rear end coming around under an impressive show of power that would  put these whipper snappers to shame.

Instead of the expected squeal and smoky burnout what actually happened was that the car grabbed maximum traction and, without any wheel-spin at all, shot forward like a scalded cat!  

Inside the car was no better as Joanne’s cappuccino gave a display to rival Old Faithful  as coffee shot out of the sippy-cup hole, impressively coating my crotch, seats, windscreen, wife and just about anything else within a 3 foot radius with its hot, sticky contents.

Of course I did what any red-blooded male would do in that situation – I kept going, looking straight ahead and trying to pretend that was what I wanted to happen all along.

Alas…I had forgotten the golden rule…if you are going to try a burn out remember to turn the traction control off first!