Friday, March 19, 2010

Bristol Day 1 - Snot, Shirtless Dudes & Redneck Pool

Waking up at 4:00 AM does not make me a cheery traveling buddy. Other than the occasional grunt and shrill scolding of, "Stop asking me so many questions, I'm not awake yet and I don’t know what you should pack", I am a deaf mute until I can get at least a large coffee moving through my system. Even that does not guarantee I will be Mary Fucking Sunshine. I do not like to get up early and I do not like to travel.

I hate flying. I hate the people who carry on a suitcase 2 time bigger than what’s allowed so they take twice as long jamming it in to the already over crowded overhead bins. I hate the fact I always end up sitting next to someone weird. I thought I almost avoided the curse this time when a delicious looking Irish guy sat down next to me. (TH was already deep into his iPod. I could have been making out with the Irish guy and he wouldn’t have noticed) Irish guy and I had a small exchange regarding the load of assholes we were flying with and then settled down to our in flight distractions. I was 4 pages into “The Rule of Four”, a book I’d been dying to read, when I heard a wet “snuffing” sound. I looked over and Irish guy was dabbing his nose while sniffing. AWESOME. Not only was I going to have to listen to him honk, snort, and make nasty wet nasal sounds for a 2 hour flight, I now have to worry if he’s carrying some sort of plague. Halfway through the flight, he had used up his tissue and replaced that with his sleeve. MORE AWESOME. I was so grossed out, I reached into my carry on, grabbed a wad of Starbucks napkins and dropped them on his tray table. He grinned at me sheepishly and said in his no longer delicious Irish accent “Thanks. I got more in me pocket, but I didn’t want to get up” STILL AWESOME.

Other than snot boy, the flight was uneventful and included all the usual suspects. We had the token screaming kid, the young guy who kept going the bathroom and the woman who pukes the whole flight. I only had to elbow TH once for snoring (he falls asleep within 5 minutes of listening to his iPod) and as far as I know, I don’t have the plague.

We arrived at Bristol in time to watch practice and qualifying. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera in the car. Don’t blame me. I got up at 4 AM. Would you have remembered your camera? I will have by camera tomorrow to record some precious moments I witnessed today.

Here are a few things I have noticed this year:

Two tone hair is back – I saw a half dozen girls with blond hair and a layer of black underneath. It’s a bizarre skunk looking hairdo. I asked TH what he thought. He wouldn’t even dignify that question with an answer.

Southern men like to be shirtless – It was a beautiful day in the high 60’s. Unfortunately, all the men I would like to be shirtless keep their shirts on. It was almost like there was a rule: You may only take your shirt off if you are fat and hair, with large man breasts and a gut that hangs over the waist band of your jeans. I looked for a sign that said this was we were leaving the track. It seems it is what's sexy down here.

Everyone is married – No wonder I felt suicidal when I came here all the years I was dying for TH to propose. It is amazing.

Men will wear tshirts with just about anything printed on them and aren’t embarrassed – As soon as I walked in to the track I saw a guy wearing a shirt that said “I was Fucking Stupid. But then I dumped her”. Classy stuff. Still doesn’t beat the one I saw a few years ago “Ass. The Other Vagina”.

If you are a woman and you are wearing tight pants, you may not wear a thong – Panty lines here can be seen from space. You heard it here first.

Unlike last year, I haven’t gorged myself on corndogs, cinnamon rolls or donuts…..yet. I’m trying to be good. Upon my trip home last year, my body was so polluted with preservatives, refined sugar and unpronounable chemicals that I had to detox for a week. So, the corndog count stands at one……one foot-long corndog.

Unlike last year, we didn’t get stuck staying in a bug infested, totally narly, dirty feet smelling hotel room at the Super 8. This year, TH got his act together early and booked us a sweet room at a Hampton Inn (that’s the equivalent to the Ritz down here). Check out this bed:


You know it’s gonna see some action tonight.

Our room is a small suite with a flat screen, a sitting area, galley kitchen and a JACUZZI!!! I’m feeling very Paris Hilton right now as I loung in the sitting area, typing on my lap top with my feet on the coffee table. TH is testing out the facilities. He’s been in there for ½ hour. I’m guessing it’s passed the mustard.

BBQ was on the agenda for dinner.
I totally alienated everyone in the joint by talking a picture of our dinners. What do I care? I’m on vacation, bitch! Ribs, pulled pork, pulled chicken, baked beans, creamy slaw, mac n’cheese and cornbread. We had these cornflake batter onion rings for an appetizer and banana pudding for dessert. The joint was called The Bone Fire Smokehouse. Afterwards we walked next door to The Bus Pit. I’m not making this up. This bar is located in an old bus garage and the bar is actually a bus. It’s got pool tables – of course – but the real attraction is the way they store the pool cues.



Just some cement with PCV pipes.  More awesomeness I can’t make up.

Tomorrow we’re up early to watch practice and the Nationwide Race at 2:30. I will have the camera and I will be ready.

2 comments:

  1. Funniest Tshirt ever I saw said~ "50,000 battered women and I'm still eating mine plain" So funny!!!!

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  2. Sounds like you're having a great time. So you blog while he shits? Seems like a good arrangement.

    Have fun tomorrow..take lots of pics :)

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