January '24 Grand Prix
Sh*t just got real
It was a rainy Sunday night in January. The first Grand Prix of the year had arrived. I'm driving on the highway with my brain reeling. I was spooked but it was good, I needed it. I had my “lead foot” playlist blasting, which is mostly Prodigy and The Crystal Method.
I wasn't anticipating to be very fast but I wanted to see where I stood. I was curious to see and study other lines. Nervousness was starting to be replaced with excitement.
And then my phone rings. It's Kimi, a person who does not make phone calls unless held at gunpoint. Before I answered I muttered out loud “don't you fucking dare.” Oh but he did. His car broke down and he was out.
This was fucked. I had never raced without Kimi and I didn't know anyone. The hour leading up to the race was quiet. No one said a word to me. The silence was deafening.
Thank fuck a co-worker showed up to support me. She's as friendly as they come and couldn't seem to break the ice either. But fuck it, we tried, now it was race time.
The two qualifying races a were a blur. I did okay. Not dead last and I was feeling good with my times. My co-worker was very supportive and brought a positive attitude. It was welcomed but a little overwhelming. Kimi’s support is less animated and more of a quiet muttering.
The final came and I was feeling ready, or so I thought. I placed in 6th. Little did I know the craziest knuckle fuck to ever drive on that track was ahead of me. He also happened to be the oldest.
They lined us up for the grid start. I had never done this before but it felt cool. Then things got quiet and my nerves fired back up. I was cursing Kimi’s named for his absence. The green flag dropped and shit got physical.
Unlike the qualifiers, the final is for position. I knew I had to keep my line snug but I didn't know how much more aggressive people were going to get. I was getting dinged from all angles. I saw shoving matches up front and could hear more carnage behind me.
I managed to maintain 6th. At lap 3 the old goat in front of me went wide on the second pin. I took the inside and got beside him. He was NOT having it. Immediately he slammed me to the wall.
I pulled that wheel as hard as I could to pry myself off the barrier. Next up was the teardrop. He had put so much force keeping me on the wall that I saw my opportunity to brake and cut in again on the inside.
Now I was in front him and determined to keep him there. He was giving me the business. He hit like a truck. Lap after lap of this unhinged goat breathing down my neck. All I could do was cling to “fast is in front of you.” I kept my eyes forward and held onto my line for dear life. As I crossed the finish line in 5th I yelled “fuck you old man!”
I came off the track a woman possessed. I looked crazy. Part pissed off and part deeply satisfied. My co-worker just gave me a “holy shit!” I started laughing like a lunatic saying “I will definitely be doing that again. Fuck that guy.”
I left that GP having talked to no one but my co-worker. It was fine, they didn't know me, but some of ‘em did now and we’d all be back there in a month’s time.