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| - OK, so time for some honesty, I'm not a huge Car enthusiast (at least I wasn't). I know, I know, a guy whose mojo doesn't get going as soon as he sees smooth curves, candy apply red gloss and hears the purr of an engine akin to a very loud kitty. I'm sorry, but to me this all is kinda boring... and I think it stems mostly from the fact of likely never being able to afford an exotic car makes it unattainable so therefore I reason, why lust after one? Right... RIGHT?
I always thought there was something wrong with me... a deficiency in what makes a guy a guy. That macho-machismo thrill, that need for speed, that male essence that can only be defined by Tim Allen grunting at the top of my lungs.
Then my wonderful girlfriend bought me a pass for the iCar experience for my 30th birthday and i thought, well heck, this is kinda cool, I'm looking forward to this. So "race day" comes (last Friday), as the sun began to hang low in the sky over top of Woodbine racetrack, I stepped out of the comfort of my Jeep and into the front seat of a LAMBORGHINI GALLARDO LP560.
As I entered the car my backside went closer to the ground than a back-up dancer in the music video for Get Low. At the same time, as I sank lower into my seat, I felt a tingle... it started low and from somewhere deep inside of me and gradually got bigger and bigger and moved to my stomach, down to my toes and up into my chest making my breath come out faster and my heart beat louder and louder into my ears...
Just when this new testosterone rush was hitting a crescendo, my instructor, a hulk of a man, entered the vehicle and welcomed me to the iCar experience and told me I was about to have a blast. I think my testosterone levels hit an all new high and my beard and chest hair grew 3 inches each instantly, GRUNT GRUNT GRUNTTTT here we gooooooooooo!
My first half lap was a tad cautious, (you tend to get like that when you're in control of a vehicle worth more than your home), but the car, I named her Alexis, sensed my apprehension and began to handle and adapt to me with such ease that I felt like I was born to drive her. Midway through the first lap I hit straight away and dropped the hammer like I've never done before, plastering my instructor and I to the seats like we were taking off in apollo 12. I hit the first pin turn with precision accuracy not even touching the break while still going over 100 km/h and then proceeded to drop the hammer again on the next straight away.
My laps soon ended, as I had 2 included in the price, but because of some scheduling delays, the staff at iCar awarded me and extra lap. When I pulled back into the start area and parked my car, my instructor thanked me for a fabulous ride and even told me and again to my girlfriend waiting on the side line like a sexy race-car drivers wife, that I gave him his fastest laps of the day and was a natural behind the wheel. GUSH!!!!!
It's been almost a week and driving my comfortable Jeep just isn't the same anymore. I miss the adrenaline rush like a heroin addict misses their drugs, now I find myself thinking of other ways that I can feed this speed craving. I think the only solution will be to buy one my own some day, so if you're looking for me, I'll be on my computer scanning autotrader for deals on used Lambos and Ferraris.
VROOM VROOM!!!
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