Job Interview: Skills test, part one (1117 hits)
Category: Humor -> Dumb JobsRating: 1.77 on 10 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <suburbanator350.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-12-04 17:46:49 EST
Fortunately, the drive from Denver to Vegas is fairly easy. Interstate 70 west to the middle of Utah, get on I-15 and straight down to Vegas from there. The only difficult parts would be Glenwood Canyon, a thirteen mile stretch of 70 on the west side of Colorado and the twenty-one mile stretch of 15 through Arizona. 70 and 15 pass through mostly barren areas, devoid of a lot of population. The fact that I had to do this at night would be helpful and very little traffic and few cops on the road will make this easy as well.
I flew out front door of the bar, turning just in time to see Lacey blow me a kiss. If I do this, or should I say when I do this, that chick is gonna pay for poisoning me. I opened the door to the Countach and hopped inside, buckled the harness and fired up the big V-12. I floored it backwards, jammed the stick into first gear and hightailed it to I-70. The evening's rush hour had long subsided and traffic was light. I chose to be a good boy with the gas pedal while still in town. I figured it wouldn't do any good to get pulled over for speeding, I'm not too sure the cops would believe me about poison in my body, and something tells me that even if I went straight to a hospital, the doctors probably wouldn't be able to nullify this poison in time, not knowing what type of poison was in me. And I'm sure Lacey might have some people that would either interfere with saving me, or at least take me out in another way sometime in the near future.
While still in the city, I dialed Stones.
"You got Stones. Whassup dude?"
"Stones! After I get this shit out of me, I'm coming for you. I thought you were my bud, but you stabbed me in the back!"
"Who is this?" Stones responded playfully, "Mom?"
"Fuck you, you fucking fuck! I'm gonna reach down your throat, grab your asshole, and jerk you inside out! And that bitch Lacey is gonna pay dearly."
"Otter! Relax, man. If I didn't think you were capable, I never would have recommended you to Lacey. Now calm yourself, the more chilled you are, the slower that stuff works it way through your system. Stay focused my friend. Think about what you're doing, and take each problem as they may arise." Suddenly Stones was sounding a lot more mature, a lot wiser. He was right though; I needed to stay focused and lower my heart rate.
"If I die Stones, you're the first one I coming back to haunt."
"I'll see you in Vegas, Otter. Good luck."
The line went dead after that. I was still pissed at Stones and Lacey for this, but I pushed that to the back of my mind and focused on the task at hand: getting to Las Vegas.
The Denver area is fairly flat and that's where most of the traffic I was encountering was coming from, once I got to Morrison at the west side of town, the speed limit raised, the street lamps were far fewer and the traffic was lighter. Taking a look in my mirrors to see what type of traffic was behind me, I punched the gas petal. The Lambo took off with gusto, taking the gentle curves with ease, the rising elevation having no effect on the car's performance.
Las Vegas is 749 miles from Denver, doing the math in my head, Lacey was right; I'd have to average one hundred fifteen miles per hour, but here's the problem, I can't do that the entire way, I've already done twenty or so miles at sixty-five, so that means at some point, I'm going to have to hit speeds of one hundred fifty to balance out. I'll save that for Utah, the roads are more open out there, and I think I can get away with it. The Countach is capable of around one hundred eighty miles per hour, so I know I can punch it where needed, maybe even gain a few minutes.
I flew across the area called Genesee, at the top of the foothills west of Denver. With no street lamps along this stretch, I gunned the engine, feeling the Countach hug every corner, the acceleration pushing me pack into the seat as I hit one hundred ten, one hundred twenty, one hundred thirty. I was keeping an eye out for cops, but from my past experience in passing this area, they very rarely patrol here, but you never know, one might be lurking somewhere. Not to mention, even if I did see one, I wouldn't be able to slow down on time. Sure its great that this car can accelerate from zero to sixty in four seconds, but what would truly amaze me is if it could go from one hundred to sixty-five in three seconds. The Colorado Highway Patrol does incorporate supped-up Chevy Cameros in their inventory, and I'm sure it might actually have half a chance if both cars started from a dead stand still, but there's no way the Camero would catch me if I was already doing at least one hundred miles per hour.
As I Came down the hill known as Floyd Hill and dropped into Hidden Valley, I got the opportunity to put my idea of the Countach versus Camero theory to test. As the hill drops into Hidden Valley, it takes a sharp corner to the left; even cars designed for cornering have to take it easy or they'll lose it into a sheer rock wall.
The Lamborghini Countach is fast, and will out run just about anything, but obviously not a radio. The Camero Cop came up behind me on an off ramp at the bottom of the hill. With lights flashing, I'm willing to bet he had be given the heads up by a partner I had passed with out knowing it. The Countach is a lighter car and stepping on the go petal, I blew the cop away, but again there are some tight corners in this area that need to be taken with ease, fortunately, I have better handling than he does, so said corners were not much problem, but after these tight corners the road opens up to fairly straight roads with gentile corners.
At the end of the sharp corners, was a short tunnel. Within this tunnel is where I knew I would be able to loose the Camero. After coming from the slow, sharp corners, I up shifted and punched it. The Lambo accelerated as you would expect it to: very quickly. I dusted the Camero and headed towards Idaho Springs, Georgetown and the Eisenhower Tunnel beyond.
By the time I hit Georgetown, two more State Troopers joined the pursuit, another Camero and a Crown Victoria. I learned not to underestimate the Crown Vic, it may be a big, heavy grandpa car, and they don't corner like the Cameros, but they do have a lot of balls under the hood.
As I hit the hill between Georgetown and Silver Plume, I heard a beeping noise, similar to a cell phone ringing. I knew it wasn't my cell; my ring is Iron Maiden's "Run to the Hills." Then I felt a vibration in my jacket. I reached inside the interior pocket and found another cell phone, but this one was more advanced than mine, more like a palm pilot. I hit the talk button and spoke into the mouthpiece, but there was no response. Then I noticed the text screen read that there was a text message. I hit a button and the message came up, "Loose the cops. Exit Bakerville. Then stop, turn off lights. This will help you."
I wasn't sure what to make of the message, but I knew I need to make a decision quickly if I was going to follow the instructions. I'm not sure where the cell phone came from, nor did I know who was sending the message. Maybe it was Lacey, and she was trying to help me out a little, who knows? Maybe she slipped it into my jacket while I was on stage singing show tunes.
I didn't think I had anything to loose by trying this, but I needed to really push the car in order to out run my pursuers. The Bakerville exit was only six miles away, so I floored it. The cops fell even farther back, then finally out of sight from my rearview mirror. There are a few street lamps at the exit and I could see well enough, so I killed the headlights for the last mile before the exit. I could see the reflection of the red and blue flashers behind me on the sides of the mountains on either side of the interstate, but the cops themselves were too far behind.
I hit the off ramp and kept going across the road to the on ramp on the other side and hit the brakes, hoping the cops didn't see me and hoping the slope of the hill would hide me.
As I came to a stop, I noticed a car ahead of me on the ramp that had turned on its lights and headed on to the interstate. I wouldn't have thought much about it, except that the taillights formed a very distinctive shape, a sort of outward pointing triangle, or arrow. The taillights of a Lamborghini Countach. As the car hit the light of the street lamps illuminating the on ramp, my observation was confirmed; it was another black Countach. It took off quickly, as I noticed the cops coming around the corner, and continuing their pursuit of a black Lamborghini Countach, not my black Lamborghini Countach, but a black Lamborghini Countach none-the-less.
The cell phone beeped again. The text message read, "Wait two minutes, then continue heading to Vegas." Wait two minutes. Whoever is on the other end of these messages may not know the severity of waiting any minutes. I waited only one minute and took off again. Apparently the message sender had set up this decoy for me, and I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
A bit farther up the road there were two choices: either through the mile and a half long Eisenhower tunnel or to go over the top of the Continental Divide by using Loveland pass. As I approached the exit for the pass, I noticed the flashing lights of the cops chasing that other Lamborghini up the hill. Sure would love to know where it came from.
The pass would take longer to go, so I knew that I could get out past the cops and their prey, continuing west towards Vegas. Time for a new plan: in populated areas, I'll keep it closer to the speed limit, but once I get to Utah, I gotta open it up, I've wasted too much time as it was.
User Reviews
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2006-01-18 14:55:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2005-12-05 11:05:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
hmm...
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2005-12-05 08:59:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
A few too many inane Lambo stats, but good.
Submitted by supadupapupa (user info) at 2005-12-05 00:17:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
nice!
story +2
entertainment value +2
spelling- atrocious -1
Submitted by Blinkish (user info) at 2005-12-05 00:11:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Definately NOT a disappointment! I'm loving this series! Something about fast cars and the threat of death .... Keep it up
Submitted by Otter (user info) at 2005-12-04 23:51:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Hey garcon_fou, you have no idea, man...hahahaha
I'm one of those guys that pushes a vehicle to the "E" and beyond, kinda like Kramer from that episode of Seinfeld where he test drives the Saab.
I once pulled my truck into the fuel island, shut it off, filled up, and when I started it up again, the engine was coughing and sputtering coz it had already started to suck air into the fuel line.
The hardest part was trying to figure out where the fuel cap was on the car.
Submitted by LilBastard (user info) at 2005-12-04 23:28:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Keep it coming!
Submitted by garcon_fou (user info) at 2005-12-04 21:57:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Ha ha, according to www.fueleconomy.gov, the coutach gets 10MPG on the highway. At 65mph. He's SO screwed!
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2005-12-04 21:34:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Lmarie22000 (user info) at 2005-12-04 20:24:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Good stuff.
I-70 from Denver to Summit county is a bitch