Michael kept harping on about the drags for a whole week, it was the Nationals and the funny cars only come three times a year, I can hear the desperation in his voice. He wanted and needed company, normally Brittany gets dragged along and being the good girl she is always goes and has done so at least once a year since I can remember. He may have been afraid that she wouldn’t go this time, hence the whinging about the drags.
Pretty much the only time his whole face lights up is when he talks about
‘Oh all right I’ll go then’, As soon as those words flew from my mouth I knew I would regret it. Then after all that Brittany says she is going, great I should have sounded her out earlier, I thought maybe she would say that I didn’t need to go. But being the peace keeper she is she said.
‘Mum you will enjoy it you need to come’
So no I was not going to get out of this adventure easily. I did consider faking a migraine but my conscious wouldn’t let me,
It was her and her fathers thing to do, I did my time in our youth, driving to the drags in Auckland at the crack of dawn to make sure we got a decent spot on the hill prepped for a day of listening to the constant roar of engines, the ruination of tyres as rubber is melted to the tarmac, the smell is a whole different story. I definitely came away with a headache then. Times have changed, but not much. We have moved from the daytime to the nighttime.
Parking then heading towards the track they both walked and walked and walked along the top of the path, me trailing behind, collapsable chairs under their arm and then it dawned on me that we were heading to the starting line. I grumbled a bit, maybe a bit to loud, fearing we were going to actually sit in the pit. Well we nearly did, we were sat at the top of the terraced grassed hill looking directly down onto the starters line.
More not so silent grumbling from me.
Ready for the first fuel pumped car to hit the drag strip, the pounding and vibration of the pumping engines, stroking and spinning those wheels, waiting for the smoke to clear so you could see your competition, ready lined up eying each other, grumble grumble roar roar, oh please get on with it already.
My patience is spent before the first race has even started and then they thought to get me a drink. Great I’ll drink my way through this, imagining myself sliding into drunken oblivion, a nice cold bottle of very dry white would do the trick.
So of he trots to get me one (poor man), then in a flash he is back, head bowed, looks at me over the rim of his glasses. I can spot bad news coming my way. NO FLIPPING WINE, only beer , more beer, those sweet mixer drinks and FLIPPING bourbon.
My heart sinks as my night just got worse. I know selfish cow that I am, I didn’t even bring a book
Well this is a day of trying to reconnect after all, I hope he has seen through his selfish ways, me spending weekends alone scrambling to find something to do while he whittles his time away in the garage with his first love his car.
I came at the ready with ear plugs so I threw those in my ears, sat up and looked interested, standing to see the speed score of the first cars that whizzed down the track, that was the first 45 minutes anyway.
Sipping away at my beer
He has offered to make us a quiche to take as he knows I am not one for junk food, nice but how is he going to do that when he will be spending the majority of the day on painting that bloody car of his. A thousand points earned for thinking though.
I did also loudly state that, ‘I don’t have to do this again right?’
9 years later and we are just getting to the paint job for the outside and he hasn’t started to tackle the interior yet. He will have mapped investigated analysed everything to a tee, he has done it his way all his own work. That you’ve got to admire he is a perfectionist and a procrastinator always has been and always will be. If you want something done well he is the go to man, that car is the only thing that lights up his eyes
- He has been despondent
- Frustrated made the way he is
- But he did it his way
- Can I see light at the end of the tunnel
- Only marginal
- Just a glimmer
- But that is further than where we were at 9 years ago
And yes he denies its taken 9 years but it has
So then I find my self sat here at the drags
Don’t even get me started on the 9 tyres at the side of the house that I keep telling him are a fire hazard, he smirks he laughs. But then I found a way to get them shifted.
I found a home for two kayaks instead