Live from the Seneca Lodge Bar

STORIES FROM THE GLEN...

10 days and counting.
Yeah, 10. I don't count race day as the beginning of our yearly pilgrimmage to Watkins Glen. Actually, for us it usually starts Wednesday night with an all-out drink fest at a watering hole here in Rochester but for geographical purposes we'll say it starts Thursday when we GET there and head to our beloved Seneca Lodge.

So during this countdown I will reminisce,...recall moments from the past that were too funny not to share.

When: Race Weekend 2004
Where: The Dong Motel

Myself and my partner and crime have just returned from the ice cream shop across the street and are sitting in chairs outside our lovely motel room door (because there's barely a spot to sit INSIDE our room) and enjoying our cold desserts. Suddenly we overhear some semi-drunk or hung-over or a combination of the two of a 'neck going ON and ON about some person he knows.
Now people who know me know that there's one thing I hate MORE than Crusty Wallace and that's NAME droppers. Especially ones who you KNOW are full of shit. Thing is, people who KNOW people don't talk about it. It's like being a member of the mob. You don't speak a word outside the family....out of respect.

So the above mentioned jackass keeps spewing his bullshit while I'm trying to enjoy my mountainous Brownie Sundae. But my stomach is wrenching and my head is starting to throb because the idiot won't shut up.

Then comes the clincher...he says "Dale Earnhardt Enterprises"...
Say WHAT???

And before I can control myself I say "You mean Dale Earnhardt Incorporated. It's not DEE"
(or something to that nature)

I thought my friend was going to snort her ice cream up her nose.

Sorry, but when people talk shit I have to call them on it.