Well, three months ago it was, and that’s when this whole fiasco started. My family doesn’t really do massive presents for the holidays, preferring to have experiences together. This year, my mother picked a very special experience, and bought eight tickets. Mom, dad, brother, me, sister, brother-in-law, niece, nephew. We needed something family friendly that everyone would enjoy, and she had the perfect thing:
This is the same woman who taught me to bring a book everywhere, who hates entering a crowded space, and who loves long walks in the woods. She bought us tickets to see Monster Jam. I have absolutely no idea why, but my mother loves monster trucks so freaking much. Nobody knows why. She can’t even explain it herself.
But back to the eight tickets. One by one, every member of my family had to give up their ticket.
Dad, stolen away from us as he is every winter by the siren song of the New Hampshire snowmobile trails.
Sister’s entire family was taken out by COVID.
My brother got a head cold. Wimp.
So, the only ones left standing were me and my mother. And my reluctant sixteen year old cousin who just wanted to watch Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. What fun! On February fifth, there we were, three intrepid introverts making our way to the big city (Providence) in order to watch giant themed trucks do donuts in the Dunkin Donuts stadium.
Driving in a city is never fun, especially when somebody opens a COVID-19 testing site in the only parking garage near the stadium. Around and around and around we went, desperately looking for a parking space. Throughout our multiple circles of the area, we kept passing this one man working the entrance to the parking garage, and I couldn’t help thinking that this man must believe that we are so pathetic, especially because every time we passed him we would roll down the window and let him know how the search was going. (Badly)
At one point, I even offered to drive around while the other two went to see the show. This was quickly mocked and shot down.
Which, fair. (See: An Introvert’s Guide to Getting Your License).
Eventually we were able to find a side street spot next to a snow bank, but nobody had any coins to pay the meter, and at that point all that mattered was getting in that freaking stadium and watching large vehicles do flips.
In my entire life, I’ve never quite been able to feel the exact shape and strength of my eardrums until the day where they were almost blown out by the noise of entering the stadium.
Due to more cosmic interference on what was to be my mother’s sacred day of trucking, we arrived so late that we were only able to see the last thirty minutes of the show, and boy had we missed a lot of backstory. One of the trucks was, quite literally, falling to pieces. Poor El Toro lost it’s windshield on turn one, the bed on turn three, and I don’t even want to know what happened to the other horn…
But the most surprising thing of all that happened that day, was that I actually enjoyed it. Watching those giant trucks do stupid tricks, it was as if some primal being deep within my soul said yesssss….we crave the chaos and destruction brought about by these Dragons and Gravediggers…feed us more…MORE MONSTER JAM!