I pulled up nice and early to the local C&C in my beat up POS ‘90 Miata track whip. Rolled on paint, second hand parts, autocross/HPDE numbers and bullshit sponsor stickers all over it, pure beater. (and one hell of a track car) One of my detailing customers spotted me and waved me to park next to his month-old AMG SLS Gullwing, in between him and a mint Ferrari F40. My thousand dollar piece of crap in between a quarter million dollar Merc and The Greatest Ferrari Ever Made.

I parked and greeted my customer, joked about the company around my car, and the F40 owner came over and started asking me all kinds of questions about my POS. Before I knew it, I had the hood up and was fielding questions about my shitty second hand track car to two guys driving my dream cars.

And yet, it didn’t matter that their tire budget alone was more than my annual race budget. We all spoke the same language, and for that morning we were all equals in our passions.

Plus the dude with the F40 totally let me sit in it. I can’t help it, I’m 12 years old on the inside.