Skip to main content

Day at the Races

Ever see a table full of middle aged women at a racetrack? I'm talking women who visit a racetrack once every year or two. Today I was in a party of 6 who spent a day betting on the ponies. It's like a field trip for 5 year-olds. The primary focus is on drinks, then a few more drinks, then food, then the horses. Invariably, there's someone who tries really hard to study all the statistics on the racing sheet, despite hearing comments like, "Oh, here's a horse called "Peggy's Kneecap." I know a woman named Peggy. I think I'll bet on that one." And of course, the horse -- a longshot -- wins.

At this racetrack, someone comes around to the dining guests with a handheld machine to take bets. The poor woman who worked in our section eventually made wide detours around our table. Why? Because we'd spend 15 minutes getting information from her about the intricacies of the trifectas and superfectas, then make a $2.40 bet. I couldn't blame her. One of the highlights: We pooled our money for a communal bet (drumroll please) of $24.00. I went with my friend to the betting window (because that horrid woman refused to come near us). She had the script memorized, and I was there for moral support. When she finished, the teller said, "Okay, got it. That's $96.00." My friend's face fell. She looked at me in utter panic. I told the guy, "You have to cancel that, please." He did. Turned out our $2 bet should have been a 50 cent one.

Ahh, the races. The thrill of it all. All we were missing were purple pantsuits and red hats. Shoot me now.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Like-Hate-Hate Relationship with Dave Ramsey

I cannot go to sleep in silence, so I usually have talk radio on as I drift off. Most times, the cadence of the talking head becomes the white noise I need. But sometimes I actually listen to the conversations. As much as I hope for Clark Howard, Dave Ramsey happens to be the head that's talking when I go to bed. Gradually, I became aware of his philosophies. He has many, but I'll focus on just a few: 1) Get Rid of All Debt - I really like this one. As someone who wants the points my credit card awards, or the cashback my other credit card awards, I feel like I'm always a month behind. I pay off my balance in full each month, but by then of course, I have lowered my bank account and have less to spend in the current month. I do wonder what it would feel like to pay just the bills for my current living expenses. I plan to give it a go, but I won't buy Ramsay's book or go to Financial Peace University. "Where debt is dumb, cash is king, and the paid off mortgag...
1 comment
Read more

WELL, HELLO! I return, a new person & personally new.

This is weird. I haven't blogged in ages (clearly evident), but a friend who read my latest email about my travels in and around LA suggested that I do something more with my writing. She suggested that I blog or journal or publish my travel writings. I am opting to do the former for now. It's been too long. I need to write to keep my brain active, so I shall cut & paste the email I sent to my friends about my latest solo excursion. A little background: I sent an email to my group of 9 other friends to see if anyone wanted to go to the California Museum of Art. I found free tickets on Goldstar and although it was located in Thousand Oaks, long car trips never bothered me. My friends were courteous but succinct -- I was on my own because...it's Thousand Oaks and too boring to be worth the trip. Here is my take: I went out to Thousand Oaks, searching for this museum. I didn't see much of the city because GMaps showed my destination was right off an exit. I drove, s...
Post a Comment
Read more

While I can still think thoughts...

Who would imagine the changes that occur as one ages? We all know that physiologically, things happen -- we get gray hair, the waist disappears, joints creak, etc., but I have experienced some startling changes that remind me I'm no spring chicken (NOTE: Using the term "spring chicken? -- definitely a sign of aging). I find partially used tissues around my living space. And by "living space," I mean the recliner I sit in each night to watch TV and in the pockets of my comfy robe that I wear religiously every evening. When I was a kid visiting my grandmothers, I was saddened and puzzled by the random tissues I saw in their wake. I don't know why this happens, and it doesn't matter because it's just me at home, but it's kinda disturbing when I do my vacuuming and find one tucked into the side of the chair cushion. How did I become so attached to tissues? I distinctly remember when I was young, thinking how strange it was that lunch ladies had to wear ha...
2 comments
Read more