Reminiscing

last month about the guy who did the condom-uphis-nose-and-out-his-mouth trick reminded me about another funny thing that happened at a rod run one night many years ago, back when I was happy to drink too much and stay up too late. It was back in ’93, when an NZHRA Street Rod Nationals was held in Taupo, at a big reserve just a few miles out of town, with 1000 or so hot rodders entered for the event. It was the usual deal for a big event — everyone camped there and the evening socializing held in a huge marquee. And, of course, camping at an event is a pretty good recipe for fun, because no-one has to drive home. It was well into the wee hours of the Sunday morning, tapering off from a big Saturday night, most of the hot rodders had gone off to bed, and it was just the ‘stayers’ still in the marquee — maybe a hundred or so — most of who had drunk enough to be acting the goat and were up for anything that would provide a laugh. As you’d expect, within the marquee, there were lines of trestle-type tables and chairs at which 1000 or so people had been sitting a few hours earlier but were, by now mostly empty. The arrangement was groups of three tables, end-on against each other, with the last table up against the vinyl wall of the marquee. Like most things, it all started out as a bit of a nothing. One guy (buggered if I can remember who 23 years later) — for no good reason that I can remember — did a bit of a funny, show-off, half-arsed run towards one of the lines of tables and did a big jump at it and, rather ungraciously, belly-flopped onto it and slid along the length of one of the tables on his stomach. Sometimes, that’s all it takes … In an instant, someone else, equally inebriated and up for a laugh, did the same thing. And then someone else — as always happens — thought, I can do better than that. And so he gave it a longer run-up and lined himself up for a longer, more shallow dive onto the tables to create a longer slide. And he did — two tables long! In no time, a few others watching on thought they’d give it a shot and joined in the fun. There’s one thing about drunk hot rodders — they quickly get bored and always want to do something better than the next guy. So, the running and diving at the tables became the focus of many, and, in no time, the more athletic guys were sliding the full length of the three tables that had been arranged by the event organizers. More tables were quickly carried across to create a longer ‘slide’, and, now, with a length of five tables and more rodders keen on showing everyone else their vastly superior skills, we had a proper competition going on. Another thing about rodders is that, as well as having a very competitive side, they’re also very innovative and always looking for a way to not only do something better but also to do something differently. “We need some lubricant,” someone stated with great authority. “Yes, we do,” was the consensus, and then a conversation kicked off about how we might achieve this. At the opposite end of the marquee was an area that was closed off by some partition curtains where the caterers stored all of the supplies required for feeding three meals a day to 1000 or so hot rodders. Within a couple of minutes, a couple of the guys came running back from the caterer’s supply room, looking as gleeful as could be, with a whole lot of four-litre containers of margarine in their arms. Perfect! And that’s about