I pulled up at the traffic light on 11th and Maple in my custom racing coupe, and saw something totally unexpected. Beside me was a legitimate high-performance vehicle, driven by a fine honey! It was teal, with lime green accents, matching her hairstyle. A trophy was airbrushed on the driver’s side. Oddly, I didn’t recognize the car’s make or model – and I know them all. Was it a fully custom job?
“Hey baby, nice ride,” I said, trying to be smooth. “But does it drive as good as it looks?”
“Oh, it drives alright,” she said, smirking. She revved the engines a little. It takes a practiced ear, but just from that clue I could tell that the insides were as legit as the exterior. That’s when I had a sudden idea – I thought it was brilliant at the time.
“Hey, you down for a little race? Seems like it could be fun.” I told her.
“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied. “Pink slips for the winner? Your ride is pretty nice too – I like the red and black.”
Bingo. “I like your style – this baby has a lot of custom stuff under the hood. I’ll let you choose the route – where are we racing to?”
“Start right here, and the first one to the top of Hope’s Peak wins. Oh, and you can start whenever you’d like.”
She looked pretty confident. She gave me a wink before rolling up her tinted front window. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on that sweet ride once I won.
She started revving her engine. I did the same, and when the light turned green, we both peeled out, tires screeching.
The urban portion of the route was wild. We were racing in earnest – traffic lights no longer mattered, and other cars were just obstacles. We weaved through traffic, screeching through turns and blazing by buses. Somehow, she kept up with me.
And then we entered the mountain portion of the route – a winding road with hairpin turns and a drop of several hundred feet on one side. Here, a mistake could literally mean your life. The danger was intoxicating.
As I dueled with her, racing around blind curves, the sun glimmering off the sea below, I felt sublime. No one had ever raced me like this. In fact, I had gotten bored with street races, which is why I had mainly been cruising and picking up girls lately. But she reminded me of the true joy of racing, of feeling like one with your mechanical steed and pushing the boundaries of speed.
We approached the final curve before the finish, neck and neck. My car was literally red-lining – I was pushing it for all it had. But we were going way too fast for this curve. If I didn’t hit the brakes, I’d go over the edge!
At the last moment, I engaged the parking brake and did a screeching power turn around the curve. But even so, as I was in the middle of the curve, I saw her pulling away in front! As we exited the curve and roared into the parking area at the top of the mountain, she was ahead by half a car-length.
I slowly opened my car door and stepped out – the adrenaline from the race starting to fade. I realized what this meant. My steel angel – that I’d poured so many hours into optimizing – was about to go to a new owner. She opened her car’s door and also stepped out with a smile – her eyes were shining with excitement.
“Respect,” I said earnestly. “She’s yours now, fair and square. Nobody’s ever given me a race like that.” I tossed her my keys, then glanced at her car. “But who’s gonna drive your car from here?”
“Well,” the racing genius said, grinning, “you’ve proven yourself as someone trustworthy.” She tossed the keys to her teal racer to me. “Let’s race back down to 11th and Maple – if you can beat me using my car, I’ll give you back yours.”
And that was how I met my Megami, the Goddess of Racing.