Pop quiz, hot shot: You’re running your Chevy Camaro in a race at Sebring International Raceway. Suddenly, your brakes give out, sending you barrelling straight towards an enormous billboard for the Florida Department of Agriculture & Consumer Services. No warning, no notice. You’ve only got seconds before the next turn, and you’re going too fast to take it without spiraling out of control; plowing into the tire wall is an impact you don’t want to deal with. What do you do, pal?
Well, if you’re this quick-thinking Camaro driver, you spot an opening in the chain-link fence separating the track from the surrounding roadways, and point the squared-off nose of your malfunctioning Motown racer straight for the access road. Then you manage to shake off the clinging gate, avoid not one but two vehicles—and a stop sign to boot—before calmly coming to a stop in the entrance to the parking lot of the adjacent Chateau Elan hotel.
All, somehow, without as much as a four-letter slip.
And then you calmly and cooly zip back down the public road—in any goddamn lane you please, because that’s how much of a boss you are—and mosey your Camaro back through the gate, right past the bemused security guard interrogating the driver of a cherry picker. She’s not gonna give you any trouble. You’re far too cool for anyone to give you static.
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