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"Experience" day
Apr. 26th, 2008 07:56 pmToday was full of activity. See, for Yule this year I bought padre one of these “Experience” days - largely because the man is nigh impossible to shop for and there is a limit to how much booze you can gift wrap.
Basically these days involve you going and doing something you’ve always wanted to do but never got the chance - lots of things from bungee jumping to pilot lessons etc etc etc. So I got padre a day driving around in a fast shiny car. This, of course, comes with a duty to attend and watch him zoom around in a fast shiny car.
Well this zoomy car-ness takes place near York. This isn’t a problem. What is a problem is padre ringing, from his car, to tell me he was setting off and to ask whether I had set off. The time? 10:00. The time when the zoominess started? 1:15. Time taken to travel to York? About 1:30 at most. He seemed rather put out when i pointed out I could get almost to LONDON in the time he was allotting for a trip to York. This explains everything you need to know about Padre’s planning for unnecessary contingencies.
When we arrived there I found myself surrounded by aliens. Or so it seemed. Because I just don’t UNDERSTAND these people. I don’t understand why ANYONE would drive a car in a circle, let alone apparently enjoy themselves doing it. I just don’t. You drive a car to get from a to b. Upon arriving at b you get out of car happy that your journey has been fast and comfortable. To drive a car and NOT GO ANYWHERE is like cooking gourmet food and not eating it. But they’re all there gasping about “speed” Who cares about speed? You are literally going nowhere fast! And power? Who needs power, you are moving 2 people round in a circle, where’s the power? *is bemused*. And at peak times in summer these people charge £45 per LAP for the pleasure of going round and round in circles? Yes, it’s round and round in circles in a Lamborghini or a Ferrari but it still boggles me. I just can’t fit this into my mind in a way that makes sense. Still I made the appropriate noises while surrounded by the crazy people, especially since padre was over-the-moon with childish excitement and delight.
Not that I don’t like these cars. I think I could quite happily set up a small shrine for the Aston Martin DB9. Not because it’s fast or it’s power or any of that crap. No, because it’s pretty. It’s freaking beautiful. It’s like driving around in a super model. It’s an orgasm on wheels yet manages to ooze class and style. Yes, I want one of those. I’d never DRIVE it. I’d just kind of keep it on the drive and drool over it (I don’t even want it as a status symbol because that’s a hella kind of stupid dick-size competition that no sensible adult should partake in). I just want to be able to stare at it and own it like an exquisite artwork. It’s waaay better than Lamborghini and the Ferrari, they’re fancy and tarted up all jazzy, but they don’t have the sheer CLASS of the Aston Martin.
Oh and as a bonus there was one of those burger vans there. It’s weird, but am I the only one who thinks if you want the BEST BURGERS EVAH you want to go to these wonderful portable vans since the burgers are waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay better than any fast food attempt?
And it was an airfield. HUUUGE open space with massive WIND. Perfect wind. Never has my hair been so annoying and looked so cool.
Still, padre enjoyed himself and I wasn’t nearly as bored as I thought I would be. And I got to see the shinies. However I have a note of things I am not allowed to do if I ever attend such an event again (so announced by Beloved):
1) Discuss carbon footprints, hybrid cars and fuel efficiency with anyone. ESPECIALLY not the nice race driver in the Ferrari (he was cute though).
2) Not sing the Mercedes advert (Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz?) next to the Porsches.
3) Not to speculate as to the result of loosing a wheel near the crowd of eager nervous people.
4) Not to speculate about the cost of petrol, insurance, car tax etc to the people indulging in the fantasies of owning and running these things.
5) Not to ask to fly one of the planes in the air museum next door.
6) Not to complain that there’s no way you could fit a big shop at Tescos in the boot. Or ask how it’s supposed to get over a speed bump.
I’m just so annoyingly practical at times :)
Basically these days involve you going and doing something you’ve always wanted to do but never got the chance - lots of things from bungee jumping to pilot lessons etc etc etc. So I got padre a day driving around in a fast shiny car. This, of course, comes with a duty to attend and watch him zoom around in a fast shiny car.
Well this zoomy car-ness takes place near York. This isn’t a problem. What is a problem is padre ringing, from his car, to tell me he was setting off and to ask whether I had set off. The time? 10:00. The time when the zoominess started? 1:15. Time taken to travel to York? About 1:30 at most. He seemed rather put out when i pointed out I could get almost to LONDON in the time he was allotting for a trip to York. This explains everything you need to know about Padre’s planning for unnecessary contingencies.
When we arrived there I found myself surrounded by aliens. Or so it seemed. Because I just don’t UNDERSTAND these people. I don’t understand why ANYONE would drive a car in a circle, let alone apparently enjoy themselves doing it. I just don’t. You drive a car to get from a to b. Upon arriving at b you get out of car happy that your journey has been fast and comfortable. To drive a car and NOT GO ANYWHERE is like cooking gourmet food and not eating it. But they’re all there gasping about “speed” Who cares about speed? You are literally going nowhere fast! And power? Who needs power, you are moving 2 people round in a circle, where’s the power? *is bemused*. And at peak times in summer these people charge £45 per LAP for the pleasure of going round and round in circles? Yes, it’s round and round in circles in a Lamborghini or a Ferrari but it still boggles me. I just can’t fit this into my mind in a way that makes sense. Still I made the appropriate noises while surrounded by the crazy people, especially since padre was over-the-moon with childish excitement and delight.
Not that I don’t like these cars. I think I could quite happily set up a small shrine for the Aston Martin DB9. Not because it’s fast or it’s power or any of that crap. No, because it’s pretty. It’s freaking beautiful. It’s like driving around in a super model. It’s an orgasm on wheels yet manages to ooze class and style. Yes, I want one of those. I’d never DRIVE it. I’d just kind of keep it on the drive and drool over it (I don’t even want it as a status symbol because that’s a hella kind of stupid dick-size competition that no sensible adult should partake in). I just want to be able to stare at it and own it like an exquisite artwork. It’s waaay better than Lamborghini and the Ferrari, they’re fancy and tarted up all jazzy, but they don’t have the sheer CLASS of the Aston Martin.
Oh and as a bonus there was one of those burger vans there. It’s weird, but am I the only one who thinks if you want the BEST BURGERS EVAH you want to go to these wonderful portable vans since the burgers are waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay better than any fast food attempt?
And it was an airfield. HUUUGE open space with massive WIND. Perfect wind. Never has my hair been so annoying and looked so cool.
Still, padre enjoyed himself and I wasn’t nearly as bored as I thought I would be. And I got to see the shinies. However I have a note of things I am not allowed to do if I ever attend such an event again (so announced by Beloved):
1) Discuss carbon footprints, hybrid cars and fuel efficiency with anyone. ESPECIALLY not the nice race driver in the Ferrari (he was cute though).
2) Not sing the Mercedes advert (Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz?) next to the Porsches.
3) Not to speculate as to the result of loosing a wheel near the crowd of eager nervous people.
4) Not to speculate about the cost of petrol, insurance, car tax etc to the people indulging in the fantasies of owning and running these things.
5) Not to ask to fly one of the planes in the air museum next door.
6) Not to complain that there’s no way you could fit a big shop at Tescos in the boot. Or ask how it’s supposed to get over a speed bump.
I’m just so annoyingly practical at times :)