Does it make you want to get up early on the weekend and go for a drive? Always taking the long way home?

Perhaps we should talk?

I've always been what you may call a speed demon, had a bit of a lead foot, and invariably employed a rather flexible interpretation of 'speed limits'. Never have been much of a drag racer. I much prefer to savor the bends. For me, it's always been about the throaty growl of the engine, a heady whiff of gasoline mixed with leather, the impossibly glossy curves of the sheet metal, and that feeling of being pinned into your seat, where the hollow pit in your stomach reminds you of that first roller coaster ride. Yeah, you remember.