Today, for our Christmas party at the studio, we went to the Raceway go-kart track at King's Cross. As you can see, it's an indoor facility, utilizing an old warehouse, which is going to be torn down soon for a huge new development.
I didn't quite know what to expect, only that I hoped I wouldn't have the same humiliating experience I had at the now-defunct Fontaine Ferry Park in Louisville when I was a kid. Most of the park was very old, but one fairly modern addition was a very nice Autopia-like go-kart track, which did not have a center safety rail like the one at Disneyland. I was thrilled when I was finally tall enough to drive one myself and was doing fairly well until I took one very sharp curve and pinned the car sideways against the curb. I turned around to see a dozen drivers behind me, angry that I had ruined the ride for them. A grumpy teenaged attendant told me to scoot over and drove the rest of the way himself. I was further humiliated when I saw my father doubled over with laughter.
Now logic told me that I was no longer a kid and after all have logged several hundred thousand miles on the roads, and in Los Angeles yet, but somehow I suspected some snotty teenager, this time with a British accent, would tell me to get out and drive the car back to the pit where my workmates would be standing there doubled up with laughter. Naturally, I didn't set any records, that I didn't have an delusions about, but on the other hand I didn't pin the car against the curb as a few others did, I didn't spin out, flip over a barrier or decaptiate myself. My driving partner and I came in 11th out of 16. The kid inside of me was not impressed but at least relieved.