I sit in my usual booth in the back, by the kitchen, at the Montana Galley. It's that lull between breakfast and lunch, about 10:45 am. I nurse a tall buttermilk. Helena, the blond, and the owner, scootches in."Gorgeous," I say.
She smiles up at me, and touches her hair, then stares at me. " What?" And smiles again.
"The weather. Outside. It's gorgeous. Too bad you have to work inside today. Beautiful day."
"Oh, yeah, the weather," she says. She kicks me under the table.
"Hey," I say. "I can't control the weather." I sip my buttermilk, and wink.
She holds a menu. "Let me ask you a question. Be serious. I'm adding a Salmon Salad to my menu. I'm going to call it The Danica Patrick. What do you think, you're into sports."
"The what? Danica Patrick? You're kidding?"
"What do you mean? I read about her having this diet. Diving 600 miles..."
"...Coke Cola 600..."
"...sure isn't easy. You have to have a strict diet. Not only so she'll fit into the car, but driving 600 miles, you have to stay alert. She's does a 500 miler almost every week end."
"When she finishes," I say
She kicks me, again, harder, under the table.
"I read that article, about her diet. Puff piece."
"What do mean puff piece? It's Danica Patrick? One of the biggest names in car racing. She comes out for healthy food, where I'm sure they sell tons of nachos, hot dogs, Cokes, Gummy Bears..."
"Puff," I say.
She takes a newspaper clipping from the pocket of her pink apron. She unfolds it. "Listen to this...Puff, give me a break. It says that Danica opened a stand at her last race. Danica Fit. You can get turkey and veggie burgers, grilled chicken sandwiches, a salad of asparagus, chic peas, and broccoli, a fruit cup with watermelon, pineapple, and strawberries. Or how about a vegetable cup, trail mix, baked potato chips or energy bars.
"It did 30 percent better than the regular hot dog places there."
"It's because her name's on it?"
"Maybe, but...I can see the handwriting on the wall."
I look around at the walls.
"Stop," she says. "People want what she selling."
"Sex is what she's selling, my dear. Come on. You get your picture out in front of this place..."
"I'm no Danica Patrick." she says.
"I like you better," I say. I tap her hand. "Just lack the big money promotion. She's 5-foot-2, 100-pound. She has to works out to keeps her body in shape. That's what guys want to see, regardless of how many races she ever wins. She was 31st in Sunday's 600, but nobody cares. She draws attentions, and fans. That's all sponsors are look for. Really, she's a non-factor."
"Non-factor? Ninth in points her first season, and she sucks? Are you that blind. Of course they write about her. She's the first female in car racing to do anything big. You're going to surprised someday. You just wait."
She looks back at the piece of newspaper. "Men," she says.
"But, sweetheart?"
Another kick.
"Listen to this." She reads again. "On race weekends she'll eat grilled salmon or grilled chicken with brown rice with peppers and onions. She also likes egg whites, oatmeal, salads, quinoa, cottage cheese and yogurt."
"Quinoa? Yogurt?" I shake my head. "That's a hard sell. You're never going to get NASCAR fans to eat that. Come on, they eat what's affordable, what's quick, and what tastes good. Nutrition is way down the list. Like most of us."
Still reading, "During the race, she sips her own carbo protein drink. She has to keep hydrated. 600 miles."
"Maybe it wasn't all that much a puff piece. It's personalities rather than real substance that is written about. Dale Earnhardt Junior, and Tim Tebow also get a lot of press. And Albert Puljols lately, but he's getting better."
"You're upset 'cause she's a female and that challenges your insecure masculinity?
I lean back. "Helena, my insecure masculinity. You really think I'm insecure?"
"Okay," she says, and she squeezes my arm. "Other guys that are insecure." She put her head on my shoulder.
"Well," she says. "Danica is the only woman to ever win an Indy race and the only woman to ever lead the Indy 500. She won a race in Japan, didn't she?"
"Well yeah. The 2008 Indy Japan 300. First woman to win. It was raining hard, and when Marco Andretti's crashed in front of her..."
"She won, right? So, she's a winner."
"But, how tough can it be to be a race driver? Same as driving, just a little faster. If she is the only thing NASCAR has to write about then they're in serious trouble."
"Everybody loves Danica. I'm going to do this." She looks at the menu. "I'm adding the Danica Patrick Salad... a salmon salad...to the menu. And if you don't like it, I suggest you don't order it. You know it's good for you."
I take her hand. "I'm giving you a hard time. Danica is more than racing. She's a celebrity. And getting into health food is brilliant. It's the wave of the future. You know it. It's what you do everyday. Go with her. Healthy food is the right thing to do."
"I know that's what I have to do more of." She looks through the menu. "Too much sugary, and fried foods...empty calories..."
"Still, you're the best thing about this place." I raise my buttermilk. "By far."
She takes a deep breath. Her eyes get big. She folds her hands, and says, "Honey, I get off work at seven."
"I'm real sorry, lady. I'm crazy busy tonight. Guys are coming over. We're going to try to break the Guinness Record on how many cans of Cheez Whiz we can down in an hour."
And as I sit back in the booth, I get another kick, hard, "Ouch," this one hurts, under the table.
...............................................
Help comes from:
sportingnews.com/nascar/feed/2012
askmen.com/celebs/women/models,
espn.go.com/espnw/more-sports/7984714/nascar-star-danica
WikiPedia/Danica Patrick, Google Images, SI.com,
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