Vegas Mike had a lot of things I didn’t. A linebacker’s build. A hot girlfriend who may have been a porn star. A Bullrun rally support bus he had decided to fill with girls instead of parts. Also, a brand-new Lamborghini Murcielago. Bright yellow, three hundred grand, sitting in pit lane at Sebring surrounded by other high-priced exotics.
Vegas Mike had another thing I lacked: complete, blind trust in a virtual stranger. When I told him that not only did I not own a Murcielago but had never even driven one, his response was to hand me the keys.
There was a catch, but as catches go there are far worse: Vegas Mike also wanted his friend, a gorgeous brunette named Michelle to accompany me during my laps.
“I’ve told her you’ve won a bunch of races,” Vegas Mike said. “And that you’re my personal security driver and racing instructor.”
Read the rest over at The Drive…