Have I ever mentioned how much Porsche Guy loves his Porsche? No? Well, he does. He spends more quality time with that car than he does with me. (But I’m okay with that, because I can then spend that time with my BMW. We are car enthusiasts, after all.)
PG has a track day coming up in a few weeks. This is where he spends an exorbitant amount of money to spend the day at a race track with twenty or thirty other like-minded people, learning motor racing techniques from pros. Safety is, of course, paramount, and everybody must have an approved helmet and their car must pass technical inspection before they are allowed out on the track. There is classroom instruction prior to track instruction, and they must attain a certain standard of competence before moving up to the next level. It’s all very organized and professional, and PG has attended – and loved! – a number of these days over the past couple of years.
Now, back to the mandatory technical inspection. PG does virtually all his own car maintenance and repairs, and if you’ve been following this blog for a while, you may remember that he broke the gear shift on his car last winter. He’s now decided that he’d better replace it properly, since the car will never be permitted on the race track in its present state. There are a few other things that need to be tweaked or replaced on the car as well, so PG has ordered up parts and has been spending the majority of his free time working on all of that recently.
One of the things that needs to be fixed is the car’s emergency brake. PG hasn’t yet gotten around to that, so he’s been placing a chunk of wood behind the tire whenever he parks on an incline. The spot where he works on his car is a very gentle slope, so, of course he never forgets that little chunk of wood.
But this particular day, for some reason (probably because his “chunk” of wood is actually a little 2 x 4), the car started to roll down the slope. As I said, it’s a small slope, but the car rolled slowly over the wood. PG incredulously watched it begin to pick up speed, then instinct kicked in. He grabbed the back bumper. The car kept moving, pulling him with it. Quickly, so as to avoid being dragged down to the end of the alley, he moved on to Plan B. This involved him running alongside the rolling car, opening up the driver’s side door, leaping in, and applying the brakes.
He did it. He stopped the car a couple of metres from a wall.
He calmed down, brought the car back to its spot, anchored it more securely (bigger chunk of wood), and got to work under the hood. Then he got the urge to pee. I guess that’s what happens after you save your car from smashing into a wall. And here is where I need to add that PG usually wears latex gloves when working on a car, and because they’re necessarily tight and a bit difficult to put on and take off, he doesn’t like to remove them just to go to the bathroom (unless they’re really dirty, I hope!). So, as he made his way to the bathroom, he started to unzip his fly. Which wouldn’t unzip. Which made him have to pee even more. Which made him even more desperate to unzip. He finally realized that the latex glove had gotten caught in the zipper. He wiggled his hand out of the glove, somehow worked the zipper down, and managed to relieve himself, glove hanging from his fly. He zipped back up, glove still hanging there. I think he ended up having to cut the glove out of his fly.
And this is, apparently, the man of my dreams.