A couple of months ago, the BeerHound was having issues. Work issues, mostly, and I won't go into them, but also, she just wasn't into NASCAR like she usually is.
During the California race, I was watching the pre-show. Actually, it was the pre-pre show on the Speed network. And I had this overwhelming feeling that I SHOULD BE THERE. I needed to be wandering around with a beer in each pocket and one in my hand, looking for crap to buy that will advertise crap made by companies that already have plenty of money. I should be accosted by hoochie mamas trying to get me to sign up for credit cards I don't need, just to get a blanket or duffel bag. I needed people to hand me aspirin powder and toilet paper samples. I needed to really get back to my white trash roots. I needed an excuse to put on Daisy Dukes and a tank top and know that even 20 pounds overweight, I'm still one of the better-looking women there.
Most of all, I needed to be feeling the vibrations and smelling the burnt rubber and screaming a lot, just because a bunch of guys turned left in front of me for three hours.
I've had a whole plane ticket's worth of frequent flyer miles for a while. I was kinda saving them for the next funeral I'll have to fly to Minnesota for. And I decided, fuck that. BeerHound needs a vacation. So I booked her a ticket. I got race tickets. I made sure she had the time off.
All so we could say, "Put your shoes on. We're goin' to NASCAR."
TBC
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I love NASCAR. Being north of the Mason Dixon line makes it hard to go to races. I went to the Brickyard 400 with Roush Industries in 2000. Sat IN Mark martin pit area after he crashed on lap 14. Sat on the wall for the whole race. Then I was on camera when ABC was interviewing Bill Elliott after the race. Dang I miss it. My envy gushes.
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