And so it was that we found ourselves near Oxford, in the country, surrounded by Lamborghinis, Aston Martins, and a Ferrari. Steven's friends bought him a package as a Best Man gift and we drove up to the country to enjoy it. Little did we know we picked the coldest day of the year to venture out onto that track, but after warming ourselves substantially over tea, Steven was off in this fancy little car.
Oh yes, it was snowing. And oh yes, I was taking pictures of the whole thing. It looks hilarious because though Steven's an excellent, pursuit-trained driver, the track is deceptively large and makes it look like the car is tootling along at about 60 km per hour.
It was the zipping around at 120 miles per hour in the racecar, however, that all the men were excited about. How fast?!
Every single man (save Steven) who got out of that car said to the driver, "You have the best job in the world." Um, driving open cars in the freezing cold? Maybe not the BEST job, but certainly a manly occupation.
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