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Grown-Up Go-Karting

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I’ve been at my new gig for three days and two of them involved ordering pizza for lunch. One of those days also featured the world’s best meeting snacks, and today… TODAY we went go-karting.

I am fine with what’s happening here.

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With my return to (sort of) traditional work, I’ve fallen back into a nice little structured routine that, honestly, I need right now. It’s good. I tend to function at a higher capacity when all cylinders are firing, so this level of structure and overinvolvement is welcome. I’m kind of in my flow zone.

Anyway, speaking of cylinders firing… This go-karting we did today was no joke. We wore full jumpsuits, y’all. JUMPSUITS.

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I will start by telling you I improved my lap time by 11 seconds over the course of our three races and end with a note that I was still dead last in hopes you will miss this end part of the sentence and think I am cool.

If you’ve never go-karted in the NASCAR capital of the world, you’re missing something. And that something is the feeling that you are the baddest mother in town, hugging curves and kicking asses. I seriously thought I was going incredibly fast and looked impossibly cool the entire time. Little did I know that when we rolled into the finish line I would be presented with the cold, hard fact (literally, a printed paper) that I was 20 seconds slower than everyone else.


If you’re in Charlotte and interested in recreating this outing, check out Victory Lane Karting. We did this as corporate bonding with our New York office in town, but it would also make an awesome awesome date if you’re in the market for such a thing. Note that some of the regulars own their own jumpsuits, which is the equivalent of bringing your own bowling ball to the alley, which is awesome. So good luck winning.

Good night from little Weaz.

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