Back in high school, the gear heads had a language and style all their own. If the local girls were cool to your car, stomping on the gas pedal would get you to another school/venue where cool was measured in cubic inch displacement. One didn't have to own/drive a hot rod to get noticed: a rowdy classmate once referred to me and my "409 legs.;)" Not too bad, considering that my teacher parents drove six cylinder Plymouth Valiants hither and yon... (The hot wheels back then belonged to hot rodded 1957 Chevys.)