I was locked out this afternoon when I arrived back from work. My parents had to lock up the house whilst they went to the doctor so there was no way I could get back in for half an hour or more. I had a choice of two places to go and wait - the bookies or the pub.
You're guess is right.
I hate going to the betting shop. I feel like a fish out of water walking in and seeing all those men (and sometimes women) smoking and throwing their money away in union. Don't get me wrong, you all know I like gambling and it does sound hypocritical but I think it is a waste of time and money spending your days in a betting office.
If I could put another analogy to today's experience I would liken it to Luke Skywalker walking into that cantina in Star Wars and having all the thuggish aliens looking at him as if he shouldn't have been there.
I shouldn't have been there!
Attempting to blend in, I looked at the video screen and picked a race to bet on. The 4:10 from Redcar. I didn't bother looking at the form guide my plan was to pick a name that stood out and back it.
I scrolled down the list of names and saw Rare Breed. It was a name that reminded me of my old English teacher in sixth form.
He once told the class that they broke the mold when they made me because of how my homework was always on time and how much I contributed to the lesson. I always like praise like that and I have never forgotten it.
Just a few days ago I was walking through town with Josh and I saw Mr Shirley but I didn't bother to stop and say hello. In hindsight it was wrong of me to do so but I know our conversation would have ended up with questions about what I had done since leaving college and I would only end up telling him about the last few years which would ultimately prove I am a shell of my former self.
I would rather him remember me as that student filled with wit whose hand he shook on the final day of term saying how much of a pleasure it was to have in the college a year longer than had been anticipated.
So the name Rare Breed stood out at me anf I put £1 each-way on it at 8/1. I put the receipt in my back pocket and rang home to check if there was any sign of life. My mother answered and I left the shop without watching the race. Ir was 8/1 after all, what chance did it really have of winning?
A little later I thought I would check the result and the horse had won. I made a ten pound profit because of my own clumsiness.
Maybe I should leave the keys on the desk again tomorrow.
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