So it's Friday night, about 1:30 am (okay, sticklers, Saturdady Morning). I pull up to a stop sign at a major intersection to make a right turn onto a street that has 3 lanes going in the same direction. There's a Honda CRX with a fart tip parked in the left lane, and a Mazda MX3 Precidia beside it, their rumps barely out of the intersection.

Hmm. That's odd.

This is a section of street on the outskirts of the city, with 1/2 a block of greenery on either side and neighborhoods ensconced behind high suburban fences - but two cars stopped on the wrong side of an intersection is still wierd. Especially as the streets were otherwise deserted.

As I slowly pull around the corner from the stop sign, the guy in the passenger seat of the Mazda gets out. As his door is swinging near mine I ease my car slowly beside them, so as not to sustain serious damage if he hits me with the door. It is that time of night when people leave their judgement behind at nightclubs and act foolish, after all...

The guy steps around the front of the MX3 and stands between the two other cars just as I get the nose of my car even with theirs. He raises both his arms, and it sinks in: Game On. He yells go, and both cars tromp throttles in a classic Stoplight 500. In a roar of engines, the Honda is slowly gaining a car length on the MX3.

Thing is, Your Honour, I couldn't resist. The Devil made me do it.

When the guy dropped his arms, I too tromped on the throttle. By the time the Honda had gained a car length on the MX3, I had already gained about four car lengths on the Honda. My shift buzzer screeched like a backseat driver as I rowed through first, second, third... and the next intersection loomed, the red light a beacon of sensibility.

I blipped my brakelights, then slowed down attaining a semblance of normal driving as we stopped at the intersection. The MX3, perhaps chagrinned, perhaps returning to pick up the guy who'd called Go, had moved to the left-turn lane and disappeared at the green. In the moments before the light changed, the girl in the passenger seat of the CRX (who races with a passenger?) gave me a smile. At green, we gently pulled away but it became apparent CRX was trying to 'show me up'. I maintained 1/2 a car length ahead, matching his acceleration, then just maintaining the lead as he semi-backed-off, then matching the acceleration again just to show what I could do.

Finally we reached the third intersection. I stayed in my lane but as our cars slowed CRX squeezed between me and the right curb. Just before disappearing with a right hand turn, the male driver and I exchanged waves.

He'd been owned, and in front of his girl, but was a good sport about it.

 

Ahh I love hearing stories like this, great kill..
Its not often that someone is a good sport about it after losing

 

I was jazzed about killing not one, but two ricers. I can only imagine what it was like for them.

They talk trash.
They agree to meet.
They get ready.
They start and -
a car appears from out of nowhere and blows both their doors off!

 

Wait.. you drive an import so by association, you are a ricer also.

Ricer means more than just putting stickers and fart tips on a car. Back in the day, any car that was of japanese descent was considered a ricer or rice burner (where the term "ricer" comes from).

How fast were you going before you blipped the brakes?

Did you get up to 80 or 100 mph between stoplights?

Just curious.

 

Good kill Manntis.. an SE with just a header will blast many cars outta the hole and pull away

 

No, I have seen plenty of "riced-out" domestics as well.

Rice = All show, No go.
Sleeper = All go, no Show.

 

As our language evolves, kids with $1200 honda civics have not. Thus the term ricer no longer has it's original Japanese "ricer-burner" meaning, but is now applied to the "all show, no go" cars out there. Thus it is fully possible to have a ricer domestic, and not all Japanese cars are ricers. Get with it, man.

Right on.

 

Only accelerated long enough to confirm victory. While they were still pulling hard, I was clearly several carlengths ahead with no sign of them gaining and blipped my brakes at that time.

I decline to list specific speeds. It might come back to haunt me

 

I had to read it like 6 times, before I realized that he DIDN'T actually open his door into your car.....and you ignored it. LOL.

 

we have this little thing here in dallas called "street races"........ when you win, put on your hazards for about 2-5 flashes to convey that your slowing down, and that you claim victory, so they dont do that "ricer fly-by" and get away with it!!!!!



Laterz, Andrew

 

doesn't stepping on your brake show that you're slowing down?

 

Yeah, but the ricers'll say **** like you were slowing down because you couldn't take the turn up ahead as fast because your suspension isn't m@d JDM y0!

 

or they'll whine they didn't get their NOS bottle open... oh wait, that was the Mustang, not the civic...