The Mercedes CLS

My friends father owned a Mercedes CLS when I was a senior.

One day when his father is gone, we take it out. We have some weed and both of our grinders in the cup holders (which was fucking stupid, we always put shit in the trunk). As we approach a down-sloped hill near our school, in the most cliche manner possible, he decides he wants to show me how fast his dad’s car can go. The road was narrow, and the slope was pretty steep downwards but went right back up after it reached the bottom. He books it, and by the time we reach the bottom of the hill we’re probably going 90MPH.

Right at the bottom, we pass a cop. Like fucking fly right by him. He turns his lights on and tries to turn around, but one or two cars get between us and him. The road was so narrow that he had to do like a 3 point turn to get all the way around. We start to fucking panic.

I have no idea what came over me at this point (only about 3 seconds after we see the cop), but seeing that it took him so long to turn around made me look at my friend and say “keep going.” We get to the top of the hill, still going fast AF, take a right, go about a 100 yards, and take a left into a neighborhood. We go down a random driveway in a cul de sac, park, and turn the car off. We chuck all of our weed materials out of the car and slump down in our chairs. Peeking back, we see the cop go around the cul de sac and leave the neighborhood.

I swear to god, it was like the fucking Italian Job. Never been so scared in my life.