Monday, October 10, 2005
Sunday I was up and out of the house to do some chores, then out with Vanessa's friends to go go-carting.
As we sat in the line up waiting to choose our cars, one stood out to me... actually it stood out to everyone.. it was pouring smoke out the tailpipe...lots of smoke... we suspected that it wouldn't be running for much longer.
Now at any go-cart track, there's always a car that is slower than the others, and it's usually not too obvious... So I did the math: if it were this car, It would have already been pulled off the track.. and there was no way I wanted to be behind a car pouring out enough smoke and oil to cause a Greenpeace protest. So I decided I'd drive it.
Turns out it was just well oiled (or over-oiled). I easily got ahead of most cars and by our third race there was only one car that proved to be a real challenge. Driven by Vanessa's friend Dina, She was driving like a pro, making every corner with a perfect line, and not giving me a chance to pass.
Finally, I got my chance, I wasn't about to let some 50 hours of video-game racing to go to waste. I slipped through the inside of a corner as she left just enough room. I was past!! All that was left to do was keep driving and hope I made it to the finish line. With her right on my tail... and what was that?? I was getting bumped!! She was trying to spin me out!! I held the next corner, and then it happened.
Her aggressive driving had bumped another car into the tires.. I heard the sound of squealing rubber and the crash. I looked back in time to see a car buried in what used to be a corner of the racetrack. Dina was still behind me but about 10 meters back...She had a guilty look on her face, and I leaned around to wave a finger at her in a 'You're a bad, bad, girl' fashion.
I was home free!! Just one more lap and my reputation as the Jacques Villeneuve
of 'Family-fun Go Carts and Mini-Golf' would be secure. I envisioned myself standing on the podium spraying the crowd with Champagne and signing endorsement contracts. I might have to settle for standing on a picnic table, spraying ginger-ale and writing my name on napkins. Hey, you gotta start somewhere.
Then it all fell apart. An attendant in greasy overalls jumped out in front of me.
"You!" He shouted, "pull over now!"
I pulled into the pits as he reached over and flipped the engine switch on the cart. The engine stopped immediately. "You're done for the day." He said.
"I'm What?" I had half a lap to go and I wasn't even part of the accident.
I thought about my options:
1. Explain to this two-bit, grease covered carnie that smells like stale eggplant that if he had any knowledge of racing, or even an ounce of common sense, He'd see that the people responsible for the crash were the ones in it.. not the person ahead of it.
2. Recognize that creating a scene in front of my girlfriend and her friends is probably not the way to further a relationship.
I bit my tongue, chose the second option and joined the rest of the gang while giving a sheepish grin to follow my 'oops' shrug.
Later that evening, we all got together for a bbq an dinner/drinks. I tried to stay subdued. Not drink too much, not tell any risqué jokes, and not discussing religion, politics or my ejection from the race. Overall, I think I met those goals pretty good.
Till my fourth beer....
Allow me to explain:
In Native American mythology, there's a story of a boy who finds an injured snake. He takes the snake home, and takes care of it until it gets better. Then, one day, out of no-where, the snake turns around and bites the boy. "I saved your life. Why did you bite me? " asks the boy. "I'm still a snake, it's what I do." Replied the snake.
In much the same way, I can only be the quiet, polite, guy at the party for so long until I have to be who I was born to be. Loud, Reckless, Fun, and a catalyst for others to make decisions that end with the phrase, "Oh Yeah? Well I can leap over FOUR lawn chairs in a row!!! Hold my beer, and I'll show you!!!"
Here's how it started:
While making small talk in the kitchen, I turned to Dina, and said "Let's play a game..."
Nervously, she asked "What kind of game?"
"We're going to run across the street to the bar, have a shooter, and return to the party in under 2 minutes, and we'll see if anyone notices." I explain.
"I'm in." She responded "Let's find someone else too!"
and the game had begun......
We ran across the street, walked straight up to the bar.
"You look like you're in a hurry." said the bartender. "What am I pouring?"
"Werewolves." I responded. It's my usual drink that brings out the craziness but doesn't taste as harsh as tequila.
"What's in it?" The bartender asked.
"Jack Daniels and Drambuie..and keep those bottles nearby. "I quipped," We'll be back in a half hour."
The bartender poured us 3 shots of liquid hysteria. We shot them down, and were on our way back to the dinner party.
On the second trip, Vanessa was suspicious. I brought her outside and our group increased by one more.
On trip number 3, the bartender said "Hey, Are you Graham?"
"The one and only" I replied, thinking that I was famous, well known, well liked, and respected...the alcohol was swelling not only my liver, but my ego as well.
"You forgot your credit card on your last visit." He laughed at me, tossing the credit card onto the bar as I hung my head in embarrassment.
Soon the entire dinner party was either on their way home, or on their way to the bar for a few more drinks. I was having a blast with all of them. I probably had too much to drink, so I took a cab.
The next morning was holiday Monday. Time for the Labour Day Classic. A full day of Tailgating, and football. My phone was right next to me, so I called my friend Scott.
" Hello?" Scott answered.
"Scotty, I just woke up, but I had a bit of a rough night last night." I said in a rough voice that sounded like I had just finished gargling with razor blades.
"Really?" Scott was no stranger to this side of my personality and wasn't surprised in the least.
"Yeah." I explained, "I don't feel so good. I can't find my car or my pants, and I think I'm missing a kidney."
My eyes started to come into focus of the daylight and the room around me.
"Ok." He laughed. "I'll come pick you up."
"Perfect" I said. "Just one more thing.."
"Yeah?"
"I don't think this is my house." I whispered. "Let me call you back."
As we sat in the line up waiting to choose our cars, one stood out to me... actually it stood out to everyone.. it was pouring smoke out the tailpipe...lots of smoke... we suspected that it wouldn't be running for much longer.
Now at any go-cart track, there's always a car that is slower than the others, and it's usually not too obvious... So I did the math: if it were this car, It would have already been pulled off the track.. and there was no way I wanted to be behind a car pouring out enough smoke and oil to cause a Greenpeace protest. So I decided I'd drive it.
Turns out it was just well oiled (or over-oiled). I easily got ahead of most cars and by our third race there was only one car that proved to be a real challenge. Driven by Vanessa's friend Dina, She was driving like a pro, making every corner with a perfect line, and not giving me a chance to pass.
Finally, I got my chance, I wasn't about to let some 50 hours of video-game racing to go to waste. I slipped through the inside of a corner as she left just enough room. I was past!! All that was left to do was keep driving and hope I made it to the finish line. With her right on my tail... and what was that?? I was getting bumped!! She was trying to spin me out!! I held the next corner, and then it happened.
Her aggressive driving had bumped another car into the tires.. I heard the sound of squealing rubber and the crash. I looked back in time to see a car buried in what used to be a corner of the racetrack. Dina was still behind me but about 10 meters back...She had a guilty look on her face, and I leaned around to wave a finger at her in a 'You're a bad, bad, girl' fashion.
I was home free!! Just one more lap and my reputation as the Jacques Villeneuve
of 'Family-fun Go Carts and Mini-Golf' would be secure. I envisioned myself standing on the podium spraying the crowd with Champagne and signing endorsement contracts. I might have to settle for standing on a picnic table, spraying ginger-ale and writing my name on napkins. Hey, you gotta start somewhere.
Then it all fell apart. An attendant in greasy overalls jumped out in front of me.
"You!" He shouted, "pull over now!"
I pulled into the pits as he reached over and flipped the engine switch on the cart. The engine stopped immediately. "You're done for the day." He said.
"I'm What?" I had half a lap to go and I wasn't even part of the accident.
I thought about my options:
1. Explain to this two-bit, grease covered carnie that smells like stale eggplant that if he had any knowledge of racing, or even an ounce of common sense, He'd see that the people responsible for the crash were the ones in it.. not the person ahead of it.
2. Recognize that creating a scene in front of my girlfriend and her friends is probably not the way to further a relationship.
I bit my tongue, chose the second option and joined the rest of the gang while giving a sheepish grin to follow my 'oops' shrug.
Later that evening, we all got together for a bbq an dinner/drinks. I tried to stay subdued. Not drink too much, not tell any risqué jokes, and not discussing religion, politics or my ejection from the race. Overall, I think I met those goals pretty good.
Till my fourth beer....
Allow me to explain:
In Native American mythology, there's a story of a boy who finds an injured snake. He takes the snake home, and takes care of it until it gets better. Then, one day, out of no-where, the snake turns around and bites the boy. "I saved your life. Why did you bite me? " asks the boy. "I'm still a snake, it's what I do." Replied the snake.
In much the same way, I can only be the quiet, polite, guy at the party for so long until I have to be who I was born to be. Loud, Reckless, Fun, and a catalyst for others to make decisions that end with the phrase, "Oh Yeah? Well I can leap over FOUR lawn chairs in a row!!! Hold my beer, and I'll show you!!!"
Here's how it started:
While making small talk in the kitchen, I turned to Dina, and said "Let's play a game..."
Nervously, she asked "What kind of game?"
"We're going to run across the street to the bar, have a shooter, and return to the party in under 2 minutes, and we'll see if anyone notices." I explain.
"I'm in." She responded "Let's find someone else too!"
and the game had begun......
We ran across the street, walked straight up to the bar.
"You look like you're in a hurry." said the bartender. "What am I pouring?"
"Werewolves." I responded. It's my usual drink that brings out the craziness but doesn't taste as harsh as tequila.
"What's in it?" The bartender asked.
"Jack Daniels and Drambuie..and keep those bottles nearby. "I quipped," We'll be back in a half hour."
The bartender poured us 3 shots of liquid hysteria. We shot them down, and were on our way back to the dinner party.
On the second trip, Vanessa was suspicious. I brought her outside and our group increased by one more.
On trip number 3, the bartender said "Hey, Are you Graham?"
"The one and only" I replied, thinking that I was famous, well known, well liked, and respected...the alcohol was swelling not only my liver, but my ego as well.
"You forgot your credit card on your last visit." He laughed at me, tossing the credit card onto the bar as I hung my head in embarrassment.
Soon the entire dinner party was either on their way home, or on their way to the bar for a few more drinks. I was having a blast with all of them. I probably had too much to drink, so I took a cab.
The next morning was holiday Monday. Time for the Labour Day Classic. A full day of Tailgating, and football. My phone was right next to me, so I called my friend Scott.
" Hello?" Scott answered.
"Scotty, I just woke up, but I had a bit of a rough night last night." I said in a rough voice that sounded like I had just finished gargling with razor blades.
"Really?" Scott was no stranger to this side of my personality and wasn't surprised in the least.
"Yeah." I explained, "I don't feel so good. I can't find my car or my pants, and I think I'm missing a kidney."
My eyes started to come into focus of the daylight and the room around me.
"Ok." He laughed. "I'll come pick you up."
"Perfect" I said. "Just one more thing.."
"Yeah?"
"I don't think this is my house." I whispered. "Let me call you back."
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