Crash into me

So it all started when I swallowed a bug.

Today was United Way kick-off day. My employer is a huge sponsor of the United Way, and every year they try to get 100% employee participation in donating some amount to the organization. And to encourage people to donate, they throw parties. Today was the start of the fund-raising drive, so they had a huge barbecue on the lawn. They also brought in classic cars, an Indy and a Champ car, a race simulator and: go-carts. I have only been in a go-cart once in my life, so I am told, it must have been a very traumatic experience because I don't remember a thing. They had them set up in the parking lot, and the tiny little girl inside my head was just itching to go for a ride. So I gave a donation and hopped into a shiny red one. The guy even gave me a shiny red helmet to match. I was all set: all I needed were the instructions. "Gas, here, brake, here." He said with a flurry of arm movement. "Put your brake on while I crank 'er up." I pushed the pedal to the floor. Unfortunately, I had not interpreted his signals correctly, and I pushed the gas pedal to the metal, so to speak. When he turned the go-cart from hell on, I shot forward like a little red bullet. I screamed as the vehicle sped toward the tires they put as a barrier between me and the barbecue. Right before an impact that would have sent old tires soaring into a crowd of people, a little voice inside said "Dumbass, it's like a normal car, gas on right, brake on left." I shoved my left foot down as hard as I could and yanked the steering wheel to the left. I prayed that none of the parts in the vehicle were related to Ford Explorer parts; I did not want to see how well the shiny red helmet stood up in a roll-over. By the grace of God and Dale Earnhardt, I made the turn. Victory over metal and rubber! I gave the little go-cart some gas and raced like the wind--like a good 20 mph wind. And then it happened--I had my mouth open with glee, and an enormous winged insect flew in my mouth and down my throat. And in a fit of surprise, coughing, giggling and gagging, I ran into another tire wall.

My moment in the tire wall would have been bad enough on its own; however, as I was sitting dazed in the car looking at the smoke and scattered tires, a voice above me said "You never were a very good driver--especially at MarioKart. And that wasn't even real." I looked up through the haze and my helmet and looked straight into the eyes of my ex-boyfriend. I hadn't seen him since he was hired in a little less than a year ago. We had lunch in the cafeteria and it was so awkward that even though we both said "well, see you around" when it was over we both knew that we were going to go out of our way to avoid seeing each other again at work. So you can imagine my complete and utter joy (I put that in italics to let you, the reader, know that I am being sarcastic) to know that he had witnessed my Andretti moment. He helped me out of the car and asked me if I was alright. He helped me take off my helmet. I hate to admit it, but he looked really good standing there, a look of concern on his face that would give way to laughter at my expense as soon as he knew I was alright. I stood there, my hair sticking up in cotton candy spikes from the heat and the helmet, and the only thing I could say was "I swallowed a bug."

We spent the rest of the picnic catching up, and it was nice. No awkwardness. I think he has grown up in the last year (a real job will do that to you pretty quick).