Friday, October 12, 2012

"um...what was that about eating your dust?"

My friend Roland called me up the other day and asked me if I would like to go race go-karts with him. Seeing as I am still the little girl who (while forever in love with all things princess and fairy tales) has a secret dream to be a race car driver, saying no made absolutely no sense to me. Especially after Roland replied to my exclamation of "I'm excited!" by saying, "Yeah, me too -- especially when I get to see you eat my dust!"

Oh. Oh no, he DI-int! Z-formation finger snap with a sassy head shake, I replied, "Uh...s'cuse me, but I believe you will be eating MY dust."

And it was on. The great race took place last night, and -- well. See for yourself.

Yes -- I know the spelling is rather sad (I mean, look at my name -- never seen anyone get that creative before).
But it's the numbers that are important! Particularly that little "1" right there. Importante, amigos.

WASTED him. By a whole half of a lap.

Yeah. That's right.

By no means was it easy. He got ahead of me in the first lap, and it took me two more to catch up and get myself around him. But I figured it out, and it was glorious.

Best part about it wasn't that I won, but that Roland didn't say anything like, "I had to let you win because you're a girl" or "you only won because you weigh less." I can honestly say that while racing around the track I started wondering if I should let him win. Often times I hesitate to compete with guys because I get responses like the ones I mentioned. Which I hate -- I often feel second class and like my skill in the game wasn't really skill in the eyes of the guy I was competing with. That I was less than him from the start, you know?

Not so with Roland. He was totally cool with it -- and his response was so great that I didn't even laugh until five seconds after he said it because I had to process the fact that he wasn't upset that I'd won.

"Well. If I ever find myself in need of a getaway driver, I know exactly who to call." much? Yeah -- he impressed me. And we also had a hilarious conversation about what would happen if he actually did need me to be a getaway driver, where I ended up being faster than the Jimmy John's Sandwich man.

Yup. Good time.

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