I want to begin by saying welcome to our first international reader! Not sure who they are, but welcome to the patron from Germany who has come to the blog the past 4 days! Alright…enough glad handing and back patting… The following story is brought to you by PJ from Peoria, IL (Note: story was edited and brought up to a 6th grade reading level by ZW):
Indiana: Lincoln’s childhood home (yes sit on it Illinois)
I have a high school buddy (MS) who is a coach in a small D3 college in western Indiana and wanted to just make a nice little Friday night trip to start off my clinical the right way. On my way I was informed that this brother had two extra tickets to a NASCAR race in Indianapolis on Saturday night. I’m not really a car fan, but knowing what goes on at the race I was peer pressured once again into doing something on a Saturday night that I wasn’t planning on doing #justlikeomaha(ZW)(AS). After getting there Friday night, we got things started at Indiana’s classiest establishment: Buffalo Wild Wings. After that we went to a couple local pubs, the Blue Monkey Bar and The Louie Jefferson Bar. Needless to say, we were the only dudes in the bar with sleeves on and the only chicks at the bar would best be described as “plus size.” You know what they say; you ain’t a lady unless you’re 280. Then MS had the brilliant idea to finish the night at the sketchiest gentlemen’s club I have ever seen (which is sayin something). Let’s just put it this way, apparently chicken and waffles does go as far north as Indiana. So waking up wondering what we are doing with our lives we headed to Indy (GO COLTS). By the way, north eastern Indy is one of the nicer towns I have been in with a Lake in the middle of. It that was spectacular. But on to the NASCAR race.
The tailgate was pretty uneventful; it was your standard tailgating with yard games except with a couple “go get em junior” and other NASCAR trash talk that I had no idea about. The race was surprisingly AWESOME (Editor’s note: It was not awesome). The track was a half mile track and for anyone like me that doesn’t know why that is cool, it is because that is a tiny track for these cars and makes the race much more intense. “rubbin’s racing.” But I would have to say that sweetest thing at the race was during a wreck break some random dude in front of us chugged out a bud light, poked a hole in it, and just started blazing. It was hilarious especially when he started asking everyone around who wants some. Surprisingly, no one did. I think it might have been the cop standing six feet in front of him. Nothing after that seemed to top it, other than finishing the night off at midnight with a intense putt-putt game to see who had to buy the car mickey D’s.
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