Speed Racer in Site B

I know that I've been overly grim/down/depressing in my last few posts, so I thought I would throw in a quick post that might (or hopefully will) make you laugh.
So you might remember I mentioned that when I was working at the Tobacco Document Depository that it had a "Site B". If the main site was the warehouse from Raiders of the Lost Ark, then Site B was like Santa's workshop. A huge space that had only two rows of boxes and the rest was open space. That space was good for two things: driving (either golf balls or frisbees) and racing (mostly chairs).
When I went over to Site B, I usually was sent over with Randy (not his real name), who would usually be on the same wavelength with me about mischief. After returning the boxes that had been requested, Randy and I would often grab the chairs at the desks there and create an obstacle course. Next, using the two chairs with wheels, we would race to see who could get through the course faster. You have to understand: this job was incredibly boring and tedious. Cockroaches would die from boredom, and we're talking about the things that will inherit the Earth after the nuclear war. Anyway, I can remember one particular nasty race, Randy and I bumped each other alot. We were taking the corner around the second shelf and slammed into each other. The resulting bump sent both of us into the shelf and almost tipped it over. Luckily we caught it. After that, we set up on one side and then would run as fast as we could, jump into the chair, and ride it until it stopped. Then we measured the distance. Whoever went farther won.
I was setting up for my third run. I needed to go one foot farther than my second run in order to best Randy. As I took off running, I knew something wasn't right, but I ignored the feeling. I leapt into the chair at top speed. The chair swung around and...tipped over with me in it. Have you ever gone on a Slip N Slide? Now imagine that, but remove the plastic and the water, replace them both with hard concrete floor, and that was what I slid on. As my face slid along the concrete floor, I kept thinking about two things:
1. Is this going to leave a visible mark? Yup.
2. Am I still going to go further than Randy? Uh, nope.
I was close to beating him, but my face just slowed me down (it could have been the beard). There's something about when you are in the middle of an accident or some sort of pain experience that time slows down and you realize certain things. As I slid on my face, I was able to ask those two questions, but I was also able to think about the world.
"Is it time for me to get a new job? I mean I like the freedom of working here, but I think I need more. Is that a bolt in the floor? That's going to hurt (and it SO did. It left the mark). Is Randy laughing already? I guess this is funny in a morbid way. My wife would laugh. Here comes the bolt."
After that day, we stopped the chair distance trials, but continued the obstacle races. Other times, we would bring the driver or a frisbee golf disc over and just plug away. One time, however, Randy shanked the ball and somehow hit it juuuusst right so it ricocheted off the wall, off a pipe, and back at him. He didn't duck fast enough, so it plowed right into his chest and knocked him over. If you've ever been hit by a golf ball, it hurts. I admit, however, that I did laugh.
There are times that I do miss the cavernous emptiness of Site B. If I was sent over there to work on any documents, I was happily alone. No one to bug me with their blissful ignorance, no one to comment on my musical tastes, and no one to sit there and try to use me as free therapy.
Of course, just because I'm teaching summer school now doesn't mean that I'm not having fun every once in a while. A few of us teachers wait until the students leave and play a version of Bocci Ball in the halls (so as not to damage the lockers, we do have rules about heights, etc). It's not the same as chair races, but it sure is a good way to blow off steam.