The Race is On...

The Race is On…

So, pulling my beautiful lace big girl panties up and moving on, I turned to friends for a date excursion and introduction. I trusted that they have known me for years and would know what I liked, didn’t like and would surely find me a guy.

One afternoon, my friend Julie called to say she knew this banker guy, Bill, that was single and a super guy; a little older than I, but he liked golf and boating too. Had two kids in college, and would probably be a lot of fun to hang out with. I said sure, I would like to meet him and go from there. Julie arranged a quick meet together over a lunch shared with a group of people. He was handsome, but definitely a little older than what I would ideally choose, but hey, I am up for meeting new people. He had a good sense of humor and indeed when we started talking about golf, I really became interested. Plus, he threw in a little banking knowledge and I was in-like Flynn! He asked for my number and I gave it-easy as that.

Over the next few weeks we talked on the phone quite a bit. He called in the mornings while I was making my way to the office just to see what my big plans for the day consisted of. How nice! He shared his multiple meeting schedules and how busy the banking business was. I was interested. After all, I was in charge of my finances now and getting the “inside” scoop was really cool! One day when he asked if I would like to get together over the weekend, I said sure, why not. When he told me maybe Sunday after church he could pick me up and make me dinner, I was completely in awe! WOW!! This guy is going to make me dinner! How cool is that? “Plus,” he said, “the race is on.”

Well, over the next few days, I thought about that last sentence: the race is on. What race? The Preakness is on Saturday’s. Triple Crown isn’t even close to happening. What in the world code is that he is speaking? The race is on…perplexing. Just running with it, yes, the race is on…whatever that means.

Sunday service was great! I was half listening to the pastor preach, but rejoicing in the good ol’ gospel music and singing praises of “I have a date” after this. After service, I drove to the parking lot of our rendezvous point to meet Bill. He picked me up in his Jeep and we headed off to his house on the water for the race. He was wildly excited and talking about his home made chicken salad he would be making and it was his grandmother’s recipe. How sweet; he’s showing a sensitive side and even sharing grandma’s recipe with me. There’s some potential here. We drove for what seemed like an hour, way back through winding roads, swamp land…Where the hell is this guy taking me? Finally, we turned off the highway onto a small, two lane paved road skirting the waterway lined with old colonial style homes and beautiful landscaped lawns. He turned left into the driveway of a quaint, colonial cottage. How cute! There were pretty flowers in the bed and roses in full bloom: a girl could really like this garden!

As we entered the cottage through the side door, he politely showed me the restroom through the kitchen and then did something so man-cave-like: sat comfortably in the big chair and turned on the television, exclaiming “the race is on!” Without certainty of what he was talking about, I asked “What race?” THE RACE”, he explained. Clueless, I asked what race again. Well, the answer was right there in front of me: on full 52 inches of high definition, complete with surround sound- Nascar. A bunch of cars lined up getting ready to go. Are you kidding me? I know nothing of Nascar and auto racing! Being a gentleman, he tried to explain. For probably forty minutes I watched these cars go round and round, bumping into each other, spinning, stopping, re-starting and all the while he is trying to explain the who’s who of auto-racing, positioning, why they are jockeying for position, the pay out at the end, etc. It was totally reminding me of Larry the Cable Guy’s short skit on auto-racing and the maxi sliding into position! That is truly the extent of my knowledge on Nascar. What is going on? Despite Bill’s attempts to share his obvious passion of auto-racing, I wasn’t buying it. And, I was stuck-in a house across from the water and inside on a beautiful Sunday afternoon watching colorful hamsters…aka cars…go round and round on some track. It was loud and obnoxious and completely out of my realm of knowledge, much less my interest.

So, I did what any good girl would do: excused myself to go for a walk and check out the waterfront neighborhood filled with mosquitoes and pray to be carried away on this glorious, God given Sunday! As I walked the great outdoors, I thought of Rule #2: Never get stranded without a way out! I probably walked outside for an hour, returning to find him in the exact same spot he was in when I left: that big, chair in front of the boob-tube watching cars go round and round! What to do? In jest, I was thinking that John Lennon song: I’m just sittin’ here watchin’ the wheels go round and round…I really love to watch them roll.” Oh wait, that might have been a different trip! I grabbed a couple of plastic grocery bags and headed out to the garden to pull weeds. Yep, you are reading correctly. I did bag some five bags of yard debris and weeds in Bill’s yard for the next hour or so while the race was on! He was lucky…a cute, yard girl for free! A little different than a pool boy, but a yard girl just the same! All he really needed me to say was, “honey, can I get you a cold one?” and it was a dream come true! What a joke! By this time, I was wondering: where’s grandma’s chicken salad?

To my surprise, he came out side and announced the final thirty laps, which means the race would soon be over. It was the most exciting time of the race, according to Bill. In my brunette head I was thinking: “my dream has come true-the nightmare is ending!” My stomach is eating my backbone and there’s no sign of any chicken doing anything, much less cookin’!” He couldn’t believe I had been out pulling weeds, but thanked me none the less and invited me in to share the last moments of the race. He continued to explain the minor bumps and crashes, who pushed who out of what lead and it would all be over in maybe thirty minutes. Thank God! As one crash led to another; finally that damn checkered flag was waved. Then, without a beat another crash-it was all over! The winner of the race was the one in the lead at the time of the crash. What? You are kidding, right? They can’t even finish, like the horses and cross the finish line? Nope! The race was over.

What a ridiculous day! And the day wasn’t even done. I still had to wait for chicken salad and take that hour long ride through the winding trails of North Carolina and drive back to Virginia. The chicken couldn’t cook fast enough and I couldn’t eat any faster than my kids trying to scarf down a once-in-a-blue moon McDonald’s happy meal! By the drive back, I was spent. My patience meter was pegged and I was working that last bit, digging deep. Poor Bill was still going on and on about the race while I was looking out the Jeep window counting trees as they passed by. Arriving at the my car, I bid a cordial good-bye to Bill and thanked my lucky stars this day was done-stick a fork in that one!