Sunday, March 02, 2008

The Broadway Handicap

Sunday I got up, deposited my paycheque, and friend and I hopped on the A for Aqueduct. When we got off the train, we quietly followed the skids as they climbed onto what I can only describe as a prison bus, which took us across a parking lot to the entrance of the track.

We had arrived just in time for the third, and fumbled our way into some $20 vouchers and a $2 bet on Brewtiful Girl to win. Outside, we watched from the fence with the kids and the drunks and the Russian mafia and cheered as she doubled our money. By now, we took it we had this shit figured out and put ten down on the all-around favourite in the fourth. We climbed to the second floor, walked past the stand selling goat curry and fried plantains and watched from the balcony with the old Dominican and black men in their flat-top hats as our horse failed to even show.

Before the start of the fifth, we paid the extra dollar for admission to the top floor, which turned out to be quiet and not strewn with shredded racing slips and pretty much all business. There was a white tablecloth restaurant overlooking the track, and we got a table. In the fifth I screwed around with some small bets and lost and ordered a burger. We watched the other patrons, extended Italian families enjoying their Sunday afternoon. In the sixth I hit the wrong button and picked Kobla Road to win when I meant to pick Serious Vow, FFS. Serious Vow won.

In the seventh and eighth I made some conservative bets and won a few dollars back. Friend was losing mad money on trifectas but mocked my play-it-safe strategy ("Is that even fun?"). Before the ninth, we made our way back downstairs to watch from the fences again. I picked a 2-8-7 trifecta and earned a refund when 7 scratched at the last minute.

2 comments:

the goose a prisoner said...

Your friend is an asshole and that's why he's always broke and I have to buy him drinks

;)'s to all of you

K-Star said...

Marianne, this isn't a comment about the post. I just came across your comment on my e-log that I won't talk to you. But I look for you on gmail chat RE-GU-larily. So where are _you_ milady?