My Nascar Experience

I am not a racing fan. I never understood the fascination with automobile racing, and I still really don't. However after attending two races last weekend, I have a new appreciation for these events. I didn't think i would ever go to a NASCAR race, but I found it hard to pass up an excuse to drink beer all day. So when my buddy told me he had free tickets, I found a replacement for work and found a drinking partner willing to make the drive to Charlotte with me. The plan was just to go to the race on Saturday, but after 300 miles of binge drinking we made a decision to go back the next day for 600 miles of drunkenness. I really wasn't all that impressed with the race on Saturday, but Sunday was a different experience. We got up at 12 pm, picked up the necessary supplies, and headed to the race track. What should have been a 15 minute drive became a 2 hour tour of camp redneck. If I had been a big breasted woman on this day I could have secured at least a case of beer. I have never seen so many show your tits signs in my life. I even saw a teenage girl holding up a show your cock sign. However, I did not partake because there was no exchange of beers for viewing of cockage. We finally get to the race track after circling around the white trash haven, and our VIP parking pass isn't good for anywhere. After passing the area we were supposed to park in, we decide to keep on driving. We come to a tunnel and security appears to be looking for a lost contact so we drive by.

 We drive through this tunnel and find ourselves in the infield of the race track. We drive by security man after security man and they seem to barely pay any attention to us. So we find a place to park and begin the drinking festivities. We call my buddy's girlfriend who works at a radio station and she runs out to the infield and gives us passes to the pit and tickets to the race. My friends are wearing these ridiculous looking pants that they bought at Walmart earlier in the day, because supposedly you need to wear pants in the pit. So we take our coolers and start walking. We don't know where the fuck we are, but we keep walking until we basically reach the race track and there is no where else to go. This guy finally are told by some guy to get on the other side of the ropes and we are ushered to the pits never once showing our pass. So we fuck around in the pits for about a half an hour until some guy tells us we can't drink beer in the area. Dumbfounded by this discovery, we decide to go to the car to change back into our wifebeaters and replenish supplies. We decide that the best place to watch the race would be directly next to the track, so we head to the fence for the start. On the way we meet this nice lady that was giving free hotdogs away. SCORE! When the race starts I put my earplugs in and can still barely hear myself think. Yet, the ten fat assholes standing on oil drums behind me have no fear of busting their eardrums. After the first 250 miles we find our once bountiful beer supply dangerously low. We make a phone call and find a way to a radio station suite where it was all the food and adult beverages we want for free. When the race finally ended we stumbled back to our car. Unfortunately, because of traffic, our car wasn't going anywhere, but we did have some beverages left. In the distance we saw a stage set up on a pickup truck with girls dancing on it, so we decide to check it out. We go over there and there are two girls on this stage dancing and 50 guys yelling the phrase of the day. As my friend walks off, some guy talks to me and says, "I bet you 20 bucks, your ass wont git up on that der trailer and start dancen with them girls der" So Im like, "Thats a fucking bet buddy." So I go beer and hand and attempt to climb up on some barrels and onto the top of this truck. As I am reaching mount Everest's peak girl number 1 tels me its girls only while girl number 2 feels herself up. So I look to my left where I see some guy yelling at me to get down, and then I look to my right where I see my bet taker shaking his head at me. I tell the guy that they say i got to get down but he says something like "i don't give a fuck" This is where things start to get cloudy. I dont know if I was pulled off or I just fell down in my own drunkenness but the next thing I remember is me on the ground with a guy over me asking if Im alright. All I know is I must have fallen hard as hell, because my back still hurts. Well I get up, not really knowing why the hell I'm still at a Nascar race, and then you guessed it, another redneck comes and talks to me. HE says, "I don't care how tall you is, DON'TCLIMBONMATRUCK!" Im already in pain so I don't feel like fighting a whole trailer park solo, so I say something like "WHatever man, fuck this!" and walk off. And that ladies and gentleman is my NASCAR experience. Nascar isn't really my thing but I did enjoy myself and have newfound respect for it. Maybe the fans arent the most civilized people, but the organization is very professional and it is not out to rip off the fans like some other sports. And best of all, it's bring your own beer.