The Gold Racer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

A man is driving a race car, but doesn't finish the race.
Why?

The Gold Racer

 

Hot, it was so hot my shoes left an impression in the asphalt as I walked toward the huge metal garage.  At fifty feet, I could hear the air conditioner straining in the late morning sun. It had to be cooler inside. It was, but not by much.

 

I went into the garage area, and there she was. She was beautiful.  She had great lines with curves in all the right places.  I walked up to her and place my hands on her headlights.  The light shined through my fingers.”Hey,” I said, “you've got the lights on.” “We’re checking the electrical system”, the crew chief said.  “How did the new engine do?”  “It purrs like a kitten,” the Chief said.  “We used the business start up guide the rep gave us.” “Do you mean you used the engine start up sequence that the business rep gave you?”  “Yeah, whatever.”  “You better start getting your suit on; we only have 10 minutes to go.”  “Right,” I said.

 

I zipped up my suit and tucked my helmet under my arm as I walked out toward the pit.  I knew we had to finish in the money today, or we would be out of business.  Finishing in the money would attract big buck sponsors.  I caught up with the crew and helped them push the car out to the starting line. When the tires were checked and the tank filled, I climbed in and secured the racing harness.  I checked the mic and everything was a “loud and clear.”

 

When the announcer said “Gentlemen; start your engines.” I took inventory of my stuff.  “Let’s see, peanut butter sandwich, chips and a six pack of Red Bull.”“I’m set,” I said to myself, “but wait, where are the Twinkies?"  I angrily flipped on my mic and asked, “Where’s the Twinkies?"  The Chief came on the line and said, “Joey ate them.”  “That bastard,” I said.  The Crew Chief said, “Listen, that’s a new engine so cool it for the first 500 miles until it’s broken in.”  I shook my head in disbelief.  “Chief, the race is only 250 miles.”

 

The first five laps went as smooth as silk.  I was 5th and drafting the 4th car.  It was during the 6th lap when I eased into the number three spot that I heard the rattle.  It was barely audible at first, but on the 7th lap, it was evident once again and exceedingly louder this time.  A few seconds later I heard a knocking noise.  “I’m in trouble,” I thought.

 

I kept my foot hard on the pedal when suddenly my door flew open.  “Are you playing with that car again, and look, you’re scratching the floor,” she said.  “We just had it refinished.”  “I don’t know why you keep that ugly thing.”  I said, “I’ll have you to know that this car is invaluable.  The bumpers are solid gold.”“Solid gold huh?”  Look at this,” she said as she scratched the edge of the bumper and paint scrapings floated to the floor.  I just looked at her as she turned and left the room.

I picked up the car and buffed the fingerprints off of the car.I carefully placed it in the glass case with Skulpin emblazoned on the sides. Stepping back I looked at the shiny car and thought, “I don’t care if the bumpers are painted it was a hell of a race.

 

Imagination is a beautiful thing.

Skulpin July 2011 ©

 

 

P.S; next time I’ll do an in-depth analysis of why Mrs. O’Leary was banned from buying lamp oil.

 

 


Submitted: July 18, 2011

© Copyright 2020 skulpin. All rights reserved.

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