A few years ago a group of us went to Montreal for the Grand Prix. We got up around Thursday, began serious drinking as soon as we hit the hotel and by Saturday afternoon we decided to nurse our hangover with a trip to an indoor karting track. We were rather disheveled looking and once at the track the thoughts of the noise and the racing had us second guessing our decision.


Then a group of Ferrari owners showed up, and an absolutely clicheic group at that. Each was sporting clothing (suits, helmet, gloves and even sneakers) with the Cavallino prominently displayed, etc. Nothing wrong with that of course so none of us really cared, but as they were waiting in line with the rest of us schlubs one (the alpha of the group) walked to the front of the line and began complaining that they, the FERRARI group, needed to go as a group, that they, the FERRARI group, should have the track to themselves, etc. Still, we let it go.


Bad news is the track accommodated them and let them go early as a group, good news was that they bumped them to run with us. As they were climbing into their karts they were grousing that they had to run with others on the track, but the alpha assured them that if those “back markers” (us) were in front of us they could just cut through them or bump us out of the way.


At the time I was doing a lot of solo events, and my friends were running either Spec Miata/ITA/ITB or some other field. Suddenly we all felt much better and when the light turned green we crushed them. Horribly, utterly crushed them. Even lapped the alpha, more than once. It wasn’t so much that we were each channeling Kimi, it was just that they were each godawful.


The race ends and the alpha goes tearing into the lobby and starts loudly complaining they were given the slow karts, and that they wanted our karts for the next race. No problem. So the next race starts and we crush them again, just as badly as the first.


Alpha repeats his performance and yells at the manger again, but as luck would have it, we are in the same run group for the third race. Same results too.


Manager finally asks us to not run in the same run group as these guys so we agree. Now another group is waiting in line to run with these guys, but as we are waiting the other groups turns and asks us to swap tickets with them. Apparently the spectators were having such a great time watching these a-holes get trounced that everyone agreed they wanted to see it again.


So we did it again.


The scuderia asshats stormed out of the building on the last run and climbed into their cars (Ferraris, in case you didn’t know) and left.