I had a car in the Army that was something of a hot rod. It was a 66 Ford Fairlane GT with the big engine, 4 speed transmission, chrome wheels, wide tires, and fairly loud pipes. When I was deployed to Vietnam, I left the car with my parents and asked them to drive it once in while so it wouldn't just sit for a year.
At the time, my father was a Presbyterian Minister in the town of Aurora Nebraska. One Saturday my parents had to go to Lincoln to visit a parishioner who was in the hospital. They viewed this as an official ministerial visit, so they dressed accordingly. My father wore his suit and tie and my mother wore what used to be called "Sunday Go To Meeting" clothes. They decided this would be a good time to drive my car.
After the hospital visit in Lincoln, they started out of town on O st. which was 4 lanes wide, had stop-lights spaced about 10 blocks apart, and a 45mph speed limit.
My parents rolled up to a stop-light and right next to them was a Mustang with several college-age kids in it. When the light turned green, the Mustang blasted away from the light squealing the tires and making lots of noise.
This same thing happened for 3 lights in a row. Finally, while sitting at the 4th light, my mother turned to my father and said, "When that light turns green, let's leave those losers".
The light turned green, my father dumped the clutch, smoked the tires, and left the Mustang in the dust. He let off the throttle and backed off the pipes as he rolled up to the next light.
When Mustang pulled up beside them the kids were flabbergasted. They couldn't believe that the distinguished looking middle-aged couple in the Fairlane GT had just blown their doors off.
My parents never looked over at the Mustang. When the light turned green, they eased away from the light as if nothing had happened.