NASCAR at PIR. My weather app says it’s 86 degrees, 16% humidity. Nevertheless, I’m overheated. My heart is pumping even in the shade. A man loaned me a hat for a while but I knew I couldn’t stay in the sun much longer. Hubby came with me as we climbed higher in the grandstands to find available seats in the shade. I feel better but my heart is still pounding. Soon I will have to get my cool cloth wet so my brain will snap back to full attention.
I ate a hotdog and now I feel like I need to shit. What fun! The track is oval and I can see all of it, cars so load I have to wear ear protection in the 42nd row. Cars roaring around in circles. (Ovals!)It’s hard to describe a NASCAR event without offending the people who love it. In an attempt to avoid stereotypes, I would describe the spectators as proud, hard working people who come to see heroes. The drivers they look up to represent American values (whatever that might mean). Most of the drivers are white. The crowd appears to be at least 99% white. There are a few beautiful people here. Most are ordinary. Like all of America.
On the way in, people were seeking signatures from registered voters. For what, I don’t know. One man yelled, “Are you tired of people laughing at our voting system?”
“Let’s go Brandon” shirts were popular.
We stood in line for hot dogs - the one that still makes me want to empty my bowels. We were behind a man who told us that COVID was a made up thing. He went on to say that his father died of COVID. He also had COVID. He’d lost his sense of taste and smell and “maybe had some brain damage.” Even still he concluded the whole thing (COVID) was manufactured.
He didn’t have all of his teeth and, at one point, spittle flew from his mouth as he was telling his story. I saw it fly towards Hubby. Would it hit his face or his beer? I didn’t see where it landed and Hubby either didn’t see it or pretended not to notice. This man had been attending NASCAR at PIR every year for 30 years. It was the increase in prices that got him spitting but he was a nice enough fellow and, really, who hasn't spit accidentally while talking?
After we got the hot dogs, I tried to refill my water bottle but the three water fountains I tried were dry. I thought it was illegal not to make free water available at a stadium. Not sure about that and don’t know how long it would have taken to find a water station if there was one. (With 40,000 people in attendance with no mask requirement, they couldn’t have been worried about transmitted diseases.) I bought another water instead.
Before the end of the race, I saw woman with beautiful gray hair and professional cut gumming a cigarette. Her face was caved from missing teeth. She was thin and hunched over as if too tired to manage sitting up straight, weary-like. She was sitting alone and it was easy to imagine she'd had a rough life but for her well coiffed hair. I imagined instead that she was had been beautiful in a former life.
My need to rid myself of the hot dog I ate previously has not waned. I let out a noxious fart in the ladies room and pretended it wasn’t me.
If this reads like I didn’t have a good time, you’d be mistaken. People watching is great. (Cars driving in circles, meh.) People wore shirts with messages - some in support of their favorite driver, some political, some funny, and others celebrating the consumption of alcohol.
I wore a plain white t-shirt and just enjoyed the show.
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