Adrenaline

06 | windsor

It's Friday so they're doing practice sessions, but Jenny confirmed a meeting with the CEO of Windsor Formula One Racing, as well as Geoff, the Team Principal. Jenny lets slip that the Netflix crew will be spotlighting the Windsor team for this race and episode, so if we are approached to sign waivers, they'll be using our appearances. It's not like I expect anything less. Our names are the only reason we were invited in the first place.

        I send Brendon a text letting him know we're about to make waves on his turf and wish him good luck on a favorable practice session.

        Everywhere I look, someone is doing something. Whether it's pushing a cart full of parts or carrying a cup of coffee to someone higher up on the food chain, everyone is a cog in the machine, all of them working to put on a show. Results mean everything, but there's a layer of politics and showmanship at play in Formula One, as Brendon suggested the other night, and everyone contributes to the bigger picture.

        A badge with my name hangs from a lanyard around my neck, and I tug on it as we walk up the stairs of the Windsor motorhome.

        CEO Marcus Lambert sits at the head of a long chrome table, while the man next to him, who I can only presume is Geoff, faces away from us. When the assistant knocks on the door, they both turn to look at us with well-rehearsed smiles.

        Neither of them looks interesting, but it's hard to ignore their importance. They're well aware of the power they both hold, more so than anyone in a sport needs to wield, but it seems to be the nature of such positions.

        "MARS!" Marcus cheers like he's issuing a homecoming welcome. "Thank you so much for stopping by on such short notice. Have a seat, please. Lunch should be arriving soon."

        Neither of them introduces everyone, which rubs me the wrong way. Even though we've been briefed, I never assume anyone knows my name.

         We all move to take our seats. Marcus Lambert waves me over, but I hold back. Rami slides right through to take the chair closest to him instead, leaving a buffer.

        "How is Melbourne treating you?" Marcus asks once we've all settled. "It's a good time of year to come."

        "It's great," Rami answers. "The food here is amazing."

        "Tell me about it." Marcus playfully slaps his flat stomach. "And the beer never stops either. Whenever we fly down for the Grand Prix, I always leave five pounds heavier."

        Rami picks at the bracelet around his wrist. "And you're spoiling us today. Not sure what we did to deserve the honor but we appreciate it. Who better to introduce us to Formula One?"

        He's trying to play the role of a friendly diplomat but Rami reads people better than most, so I know he's not feeling them either.

        "We might be jumping the gun here but we just wanted to make you feel welcome," Marcus replies with a purposeful grin. He lifts a bottle of beer for a sip before placing it back down, an untouched stack of coasters inches away from his hand. "Any friend of Brendon's is a friend of ours. And if there's anything you wanted to know about working with Netflix, we're here to give you any insight you might need. I know it's daunting to work with a corporate giant like them."

        Seira, not one to shy away from a dig or two, leans back with a laugh. "What are you, their PR team?"

        Marcus takes it in stride. "No, but we understand the complicated system and what's required of those trying to navigate through all of the mess. Just because it's reality television doesn't make it any more real than their scripted shows."