Ricer Profiling
"Ah, dammit!"
"What's wrong?"
"There's a freakin' cop on my ass."
"Don't tell me you're going to get popped 10 seconds from your pad..."
Every time an officer of the law starts tailing me, sweat starts beading on my forehead and I get this horrible sinking feeling... like I dropped off a roller coaster, leaving my testicles to roll about like marbles on the floor. And it's not like I committed a felony; no high speed chases or street races to mention. My only crime? A DUI: Driving Utilizing an Intake and exhaust. We're not talking an obnoxiously loud intake and exhaust either, rather bolt-ons that drop the note half an octave and are louder by less than a handful of decibels.
Now if I were in a muscle car, Mustang or any other Motor City derivative, I could cruise sounding like an uncorked M1 Abrams and not get sweated. Domestics get away with modification murder. Pigs-in reference to swine, not the police-would sooner fly before, God forbid, a domestic get popped with a fix-it ticket over an import.
While I'm sure there are dozens of reasons why domestics have an aftermarket hall pass, my hypothesis is that they've become accepted over time. In the car world, they are the good ol' boys network. For middle aged men in the force, growing up, muscle cars were what was cool-they probably owned or pined after some Detroit steel. A '91 Nissan 240SX, like the one I'm driving, on the other hand, is not something most 50 year old White cops were rushing out to put deposits on. The tuning scene and imports are something recent and misunderstood, which is why we're often vilified. And driving around a tuned S13 with an intake, exhaust, SR20DET and wheels in Glendale, a suburb of Los Angeles, I might as well be trying to board a plane smelling like C4 and wearing an "I Heart Al Qaeda" T-shirt. It's a case of ricer-profiling.
"Crap!"
The trailing police car flips on his red and blues as I park in front of my house. The officer walks up and does the old "shine the Maglite right in your eyes" trick... like they really think its going to blind suspects into subservience.
"What do you have under your hood?" The officer asks.
"Um, a motor?" I cautiously respond.
"No, wiseass. What modifications?
I bluff like I'm in the World Series of Poker, "Legal ones. Like an, um, intake and, um, an exhaust... both of which are CARB approved." I am so all in.
"Stop lying. I heard a blow-off valve: You have a Redtop or Blacktop SR?"
"Oh. So, uh, you know about JDM motor swaps?" I nervously laugh.
"Yeah, that's why I was following you, I have one myself."
"Word? So, uh, am I going to get a fix-it ticket?"
"Far from it, I just want to check it out."
A pig-again, in reference to swine, not police-somewhere, just sprouted wings.EditorCarter Jungcarter@importtuner.com
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