I like that, Z06Nut! Sort of a poetic ode to the Z06.
I'll try my hand at this with a short essay. Call this:
"The Joy of Z06"
It's morning, and all the first-of-the-day chores and routines have been completed. I walk to my garage and open the door. She's waiting there- patiently watching me, knowing me.
I push the button on the fob, and she even winks at me. She knows.
The door opens at my touch and I climb inside and settle myself into a snug, leather appointed ****pit and close the door. I strap myself in, and for good measure, pull the lap strap to activate the cinch. And with that, I know I am hers. She has me right where she wants me.
The key is inserted into the ignition, but before firing her up, I turn it to the on position. The digital readout in front of me flashes "CORVETTE... BY CHEVROLET". That's just a tease. The final segment of turn on the key is made, and she comes to full awakeness with a roar. She is ready, and now she grows impatient. It's even a little intimidating: 405 horses are being held up.
The shift into first, the release of the brake, and the gentle ease of pressure on the clutch and application of pressure on the gas... we have movement now. In front of me, glowing green in the air in front of me, I'm told my RPM and speed. Its in single digits for now, and she's irritated with my caution.
"It's okay, baby," I tell her in my mind, "just a moment longer." Pressure on the gas increases and she rolls ahead. Her impatience to run can't be restrained any more- she locks the doors on me, a signal that's she's not letting me out until she's had her way with me.
I reach the street now, and reward her waiting: the gas goes down hard, and rhythmically, we go second, third, fourth... Now, she's getting happy. The green numbers floating in front of me spiral upward, and she gently pushes me back into the seat. "I'll take it from here," she whispers to me.
Am I the one in control here, or is she? Does she decide the route I take will be the direct one, or the scenic one so we can spend more time together? Did she choose the path that she knows features challenging twisties in the road, or does she want the straightaways for speed? Is that her raising the volume on the music? "You can listen to anything you want," she tells me, "pick something to set the mood. But you aren't getting out of here until I say so."
"Whatever you say," I respond again, inside my head. I'm almost breathless now.
Did the journey last hours? Or mere minutes? I can't really say- I'm just not sure. Somehow, when I surrender myself to her, time has no meaning. I just know that at some point, the conscious part of me realizes that where ever we were headed, we've arrived. The brake has been applied. We sit in neutral. And now the key has been turned off, giving her a well earned rest.
I sit for a moment, still strapped in, still hearing the music she's playing, but listening to my accellerated heart beat. I'm smiling. I gather myself, release the seat belt and exit the ****pit. I'm still smiling. I push the lock button on the fob, and watch as she winks to me once more. And I'm still smiling.
"When you want to do it again, you know where to find me," I hear her say. But she knows that's un-necessary. I'll be back for more. I always am.
)
I'd better stop there, or this thread may end up getting moved to The Edge.
