Maybe it was fate that put mah tee vee on the fritz that Satterdy afternoon.  Shore, ah missed a few laps of the race, but it turned out to be mostly worth it, ‘cause that’s how Ah met the woman of mah dreams.

Ah was upset, shore, when that tee vee wouldn’t turn on.  Ah’d paid good money t’have the back of mah trailer torn open to get that big screen insahd, not to mention how many packs a day of Winstons ah had to sacrifice to pay that monthly satelaht dish bill.  But Ah’ve always been the kahnd of guy who can step back and look at the things that’re really important, and in this case it wasn’t hard to realize that the truly important thing was to git me to someplace where Ah could see the rest of the race.

Well, seein’ as Ah couldn’t watch the race at home, ah fired up the pickup and headed down to Brewski’s NASBAR and Discount Package Store - y’all know the place, the one off Country Road 7 where the walkway is lahned with decorative Chevy 350 small blocks.  So anyways, Ah go in and sit at the bar and Ah figure, what the hell, it’s race day - splurge a little!  So Ah order a Budweiser instead of a Pabst Blue Ribbon and Ah start munchin’ on some mixed nuts and Ah turn toward the wall where the tee vee was mounted under a stuffed deer head whose antlers were all decked out with Earnhardt hats.

It was at that moment that Ah first laid ahs on Mawrlene.

Ah’ll admit, the attraction was all physical to start with.  Ah mean, if y’all saw Mawrlene, y’all’ed be whistlin’ and cat-callin’ like Ah wanted to and prob’ly woulda if her two big brothers wasn’t sittin’ next to her.

The streak of brown hair that had grown in the middle of her head since her last peroxide dip looked almost lahk a racin’ strahp.  A trail of Coors Laht stains on her whaht T-shirt accenturated- assentumated- made me wanna stare at her chest, to the point where Ah almost missed the big crash on lap twenny one ‘cause Ah was busy fantasizin’ ‘bout followin’ that beer trail.  And the way that lit Mawlburra dangled seductively from her lower lip... Ah was lost.  When she smahled, the pockmarks on her cheeks seemed to form the shapes of a pair of Bridgestone’s best tahrs, and all Ah could think about was becomin’ the pit crew for the chassis in between.

As Ah said, at first Ah really only saw her as a sex object.  But when Ah moved closer for a better look Ah could hear her scratchy voice as she talked, and Ah learned that there was a wonderful mahnd to go along with that perfect body.  She knew every car, every driver, and the in and outs of every motor on the track.  She reminisced about the spoiler angle change on the Taurus in the ’97 season an’ the profound effect it had on the sport that year.  When they played a clip of an old Jeff Gordon interview and she showed her contempt by spittin’ a wad of chaw clear over the bar into the spittoon on the other side, Ah knew Ah was in love.

Ah was so distracted that by the tahm Ah got home that night Ah couldn’t even remember who had placed anywhere below 5^th in the race.  Ah had to meet this woman ... had to fahnd a way to git her to notice me.  But what would a girl lahk her see in a guy lahk me?  Ah mean, Ah don’t even have no Camaro to set out on the cinder blocks outside mah place!  Still, Ah knew Ah wouldn’t be whole again till Mawrlene joined me on the oval track of lahf.

Mah name is Dale, and this is the story of how Ah became Mawrlene’s number one drahver.