As any of you who have been to a gathering with me know my car's brakes squeal, whine, and sqeak. badly. This is due to the ferro-carbon pads that I have, which once heated up bring my car to a halt fairly rapidly. (One there hot, they also stop squealing)
So last night I see my X walking down the street by my cousin's house, and I decided to be a nice guy and offer her a ride back to her house. about 4 blocks away up hill. She accepts and climbs in. Then starts giving me static about how I ignore my car. (her's is spotless at all times. she loves to clean it. no job gives her plenty of time to clean a conv. sebring. It has less go than the benz, but she thinks it's fast) When we were dating she loved my car. Not as much as her dad's camaro, which was faster in her world.
So I go, let's not start this again. I've been futzing with a boost controller, and getting a handle on installing my fuel controller. boat's in the drive way taking up my car washing space. leave me alone.
So then she starts in on my rims which were covered in brake dust. (I didn't think they were that bad) and how my car's brakes need to be changed 'cause they squeal. I tell her they're fine. they're race pads. they squeal, just deal with it. She then replies that if they were good they would not squeal.
Now I'm pissed off. Normally I'm fairly mellow, but she somehow always manages to push my buttons. So I look over at her and ask her if she is sure that any brake that squeals is shot. Glance in the mirrors. No cars.
Yes, everyone knows that.
Clutch in. Brake Pedal to the floor. Her head actually bounced off the dash.
It's actually the second best time I've ever had with her...
She was silent until she got out of the car at her drive way. Thanks for the ride. No problem.
Don't pick on my brakes unless you brought asprin.
