Jose and Candace have been trying to talk me into going camping in the parking lot outside Texas Motor Speedway all weekend with them. I declined their offer.
Camping is fun. I love to camp. In the woods. Near a lake or river. Not in a steaming hot parking lot full of drunk redneck jerk-offs. (Me calling someone a redneck is like the pot calling the kettle black). And they both took off work Monday, so I'd have to drive my own car through the hordes of NASCAR fans when leaving. Not happening.
At this morning's meeting the new operations manager offers me a ticket to the race on Sunday. I initially accepted. Then I declined. They want to leave at 6:00 a.m. to beat the traffic. All day with people from work, getting drunk, watching cars go in circles, paying ridiculous amounts of money for light beer. No thanks. I'll sleep in.
I've made plans for bowling Saturday night with a few friends in Dallas. I'm sure the night will take us to some interesting places. Possibly ending at the Waffle House or IHOP by dawn's early light. Waking up and driving to the other side of Fort Worth for an event I have little enthusiasm for, with a hangover, and little or no sleep would be pointless. Then I'd have to get up in the morning and look at all the people from work again. Probably after making a fool of myself.
I'm not going. I think.
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