In case you missed the alert issued by the Emergency Broadcast System, Tucker Max, author of I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, was in Charlotte recently — but even worse, I was his Charlotte tour guide.
After waiting for all the bouncers to take pictures with him, we got into Whisky River where we ran into the mayor of the EpiCentre, Bob Durkin. The first thing he did upon meeting Max was ask him what he was doing with the likes of me. “That’s like mixing oil and water — Britt’s a good girl,” he said almost defensively, making sure he was aware. But don’t worry, I’m not going to end up in his next book or anything — the story would be about as compelling as, “I helped her with her writing and she took me to my first NASCAR race. The End.” He even makes fun of me for having a sex life less exciting than that of a nun, stating “The meat curtains have receded.”
Anyway, Max was invited to tour Jimmie Johnson’s hauler and sit in his pit box for a few laps … which I had to specify was the driver, not the football coach. We wandered through the campgrounds for a bit, but Tucker said if he wanted to hang out with sweaty rednecks, he’d go to Wal-Mart.
Before the green flag was waved, we milled around the track, dodging officials until they announced, “Gentlemen start your engines!” According to Max, it’s not the gentlemen that will finish first — his next book, Assholes Finish First, will be released in September.
We watched the end of the race atop Denny Hamlin’s motorcoach, cheering for Hamlin to win — that meant we’d all go get drunk at Butter. When Kyle Busch threatened Hamlin on his radio, blaming his wreck on him, we came close to creating a new chapter in Max’s book titled: “Tucker Goes to a Nascar Race, Causes Trouble.” Max was ready to go to the number-11 hauler, where Busch was waiting on Hamlin, and kick his ass before Hamlin could even get out his car.
It’s safe to say Tucker Max is officially a NASCAR fan.
This article appears in Jun 1-7, 2010.
