We did our cruising and stop light racing on Deer Park Ave in western Suffolk County in the late 70's/early 80's. Plenty of action there. After one Saturday night of street racing, we made plans to do some bracket racing at Hampton Raceway in Westhampton on Sunday. I had a 70 L78 Chevelle and my friends had similar cars. Sunday morning we headed 30 miles east to the track and bracket raced all day. We finished up racing and decided to head back home to a local bar. My friends cleaned off the shoe polished numbers on their windows but I thought it was too cool so I kept them on. While hanging at the bar I met a girl who, to my surprise, thought I was fun. We decided to hang out together and drive up to the bluff. On the way we stopped at a 7/11 and picked up some beers. Sure enough, while I was pulling out of the parking lot a cop was pulling in. He saw my windows and hit his lights. He walked up to my Chevelle and said something like 'what's on your windows son?' and I said something clever like 'officer I race on the track, not the street' and he said something like 'if you want to see your car again you'll get that s--t off your windows'. Now, I'm 19 years old, it's 10:00 o'clock at night and I've been out all day. I've got a cop shining his flashlight in my face, a girl whose name I can't remember in my front seat and two six packs of St. Pauli Girls in my backseat. I'm dead. In a flash of brilliance I hop out of my car and pop the hood. I peel off my t-shirt and shove it into the windshield washer bottle. I use the t-shirt to clean my windows spotless. The cop takes one look at me and says 'now put it back on'. He made me pull that dirty wet t-shirt over back my head. I still remember how hard he was laughing when he rolled away in his squad car. I drank those St Pauli Girls by myself that night, but I saved my Chevelle from the impound yard.
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