OK, so this is one of those "you had to be there" stories, but I'm gonna tell it anyway! And it's a little naughty, so no looking if you are against thinking about nudity and nude words.
It's no news the DH and I are not Nascar fans...or most circular racing (runners, horses, dogs, etc.). DH calls Nascar "turn left." But our lovely state was host to this weekend's Nascar race. Friday night, we went out for Italian at a local eatery (nothing fancy) and while we were there a whole team came in and had dinner not 5 feet from us. Of course neither of us knew who they were, so I texted my dad (he and my brother ARE fans) and I tried to tell him about the different sponsors on some of the shirts that they were wearing in order to identify who we were dining "with." Unfortunately all the sponsorships were broad sponsors of Nascar, so that was a fail. The rest of the conversation then went like this:
D: Where are u?
M: Local restaurant, but Nascar is in town this weekend.
D: Ask for an autograph.
M: Who am I asking? What's the driver's name?
D: "Don't no, just say hay brau how bout an autograph" (yup...redneck spelling came out)
M: To which one of the THIRTEEN guys?!? LOL
D: OK then say douds
D: How many did you get?
A second (smaller) team came in and we tried to identify them too, but wasn't able to.
At one point, the large group broke into loud conversation and (almost as if they were fishing for attention) someone said, "that's why we let you drive the race car." Really, in regular conversation would you make it a point to say race car and not, "that's why we let you drive?" Anywho, that at least let us identify the driver of the group and we later went home and looked at pictures to find out who it was. But as we were leaving the restaurant, my dad called and seriously wanted to know if we had gotten any autographs. I again asked him how I should've approached a table of thirteen people and ask for an autograph from someone who I did not recognize. DH, overhearing the conversation, suggested that I should have walked up to the table and said, "Hey Ricky Bobby, can I have your autograph?" At which point I started laughing so hard I nearly peed my pants, because I took his suggestion a whole step further and pictured myself walking up to the table of people (when I don't even know WHO I am asking) and asking Ricky Bobby to sign my boob (I WAS wearing a low cut shirt). Now those of you that know me, know that I love to entertain these thoughts and have a blast at fantasizing about doing naughty things that I would otherwise have to be beyond drunk to actually do. The thought was worth a giggle the whole way home!
(best one I could find, sorry)
Again, I know that you really had to have been there, but of all the people to run in to pros, it would be us non-fans. Too funny.
We did find out who it was, once we got home and googled the driver pics. Even though we had a name, it meant nothing to us, but my little brother said he was really good driver and then HE was mad that we didn't get autographs.