Donuts in the Parking Lot

Not what you think…

When Bobby Gentleman did thirteen donuts in the City Park parking lot after the latest snow storm, a small crowd of onlookers cheered with each circle. No rubber was being burned and nobody was getting hurt. Even though it was snow turning to ice, Bobby was still in control of his vehicle, and would have stopped at the hint of him getting out of control. The ‘69 Chevy Nova was still in pristine condition with a three-year old cherry red paint job.

Gentleman eased off the gas when he saw the flashing red and blue lights of the patrol car turning into the parking lot. Stopping only a few feet away from the Nova, the police officer got out and sauntered over to the passenger window, surveying the car as he walked. The crowd cheered as the officer approached and many were recording the event.

“Afternoon, sir. Officer Jenkins of the Police Department. ‘69 Nova?” he asked.

“Uh, yes sir. Yes, it is,” Bobby said with his hands gripping the steering wheel.

“My dad had a 454, 7.4 liter for a few years,” Officer Jenkins said. “What’s this got in it? Could ya pop the hood to let me have a looksee?”

“Uh, sure Officer. It’s got a Crate 7.4, 454.”

Bobby popped the hood and got out of the vehicle, opened the hood and propped it open.

Officer Jenkins took out his flashlight and shone around the engine.

“Aluminum valve covers. Nice. Headers?”

“Uh, ceramic short tube patriot headers.”

Jenkins nodded. “I see. Nice ride, sir, nice ride. You ever consider selling it?”

“No sir. Not with all the blood sweat and tears I’ve put into it. I’ll have it for life or until I get married.”

“Good answer. You can close it up now,” said Officer Jenkins. “Oh, before I forget, take it easy on the donuts especially with all these people around. And plus, you don’t want to damage this bad boy.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”



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