Every year my lovely city of San Diego throws the annual San Diego County Fair, held at the Del Mar Fairgrounds in, well, Del Mar. And every year, my lovely friend asks for my assistance with the La Jolla Blue Book Instagram account for SD Fair Media Day.
Media Day is when all the local media is invited for a first look at the fair, its offerings, and most importantly, the new fair foods on hand such as deep-fried Philly cheesesteak. But that’s another story. While at this particular event, there was a particular sign-up sheet for a Demolition Derby to be held soon at the fair, and oh would I like to sign up? More than tipsy from the free beer and wine, I was like “Sure! My name’s never going to get picked anyway!“.
Lol to that tipsy me, because last week I got a call from the powers that be of the SD Fair. My name was picked, and would I like to join the demolition derby, no you can’t let your husband take your place as we want a woman to win.
I was literally at a loss for words. I asked the nice lady on the phone if I could have some time to decide, and she chirpily replied in the affirmative, and that she was going to email me the information anyway.
I immediately Google’d “demolition derby”, and checked out videos. Are you Serious ??? Me, smash into cars and in turn, get smashed into ??? Consultation of my husband, and my best friends, and my co-workers led to the conclusions of:
– DUH, You should do it.
– It’s on the bucket list of every guy, and you get to do it for free.
– Do it, and Win! (How about SURVIVE???)
I emailed back my consent, together with my demolition derby name: Cool Hand Lucia. I set out about looking for a helmet, the ultimate (and safe) accessory for a demolition derby.I had no shortage of friends who ride bikes, so said helmet was procured:
I put it on to see how it would feel like, and I think I actually looked good 😉
The day of the demolition derby came. I was SO nervous. Terrified even. How about Petrified? I still did manage to get my nervous ass to the arena, where I signed a bunch of forms and disclaimers i.e. I will not sue you if I die / become dismembered / incapacitated / etc. 🙁
Since I showed up early, I actually got to pick my car. The pit boss (probably seeing the petrified look on my face) was super helpful in pointing out the best car for me. We were encouraged to pick a number, and decorate our car. I picked a silver Hyundai:
Can you tell I’m petrified?
Once I got to painting and claiming ownership of my car, I knew there was no going back. After the mandatory 15-minute safety/rules training, I got in my car, waited for the signal to drive in, and got to work:
I am still processing the actual demolition derby itself. What I do remember was the complete and absolute freedom to smash into cars, drive around crazy, and generally survive. I also remember my adrenaline pumping and getting my survival instinct on. I kept repeating to myself to hold on, hit when I can, and get away when I couldn’t. I definitely took my share of hits, but I just kept driving, and reversing, and driving, and reversing. For 36 minutes.
That’s me in the lower left corner, one minute before the red lights came on that signaled we were to stop driving.
I had NO idea I had won until the pit boss came over, told me I was the last car standing, I had won, and to get my ass to the winner’s podium 😀
I am still in complete disbelief about the whole affair. I had only wanted to survive, and I ended up winning! That is life for you I guess. At least now I have bragging rights, a pretty awesome plaque, and a great story to tell my kids (if I ever have any), about that one time their momma was a bad-ass.
Nyaks
So awesome. You are a Baaaaaaad ass!!!
Bob
You don’t build your own cars?