Good thing we don't gamble

Yesterday Sharon and I went off to see horse races. I had never been to one before and wasn't sure what to expect, but I guess the Rillito Racetrack has been around since the '40s and apparently it's pretty popular. We arrived just in time to catch the end of the first race as the horses whizzed past and we heard spectators swearing in disappointment as well as gleefully asking their buddy: "Whad'ya win?!"

Although I had heard horse races were gambling depots, I was still surprised that nearly everyone was clinging to their race menus, with notes and messy math scribbled in the margins about odds. It seemed we were among the only non-wagering spectators there, so to avoid feeling left out we made imaginary bets. We picked a horse that looked strong, and in the next race he came in second. With confidence in our abilities mounting, this would have been the point that we raised our wagers for the next race.

We picked a new beast to make our imaginary wagers on, and Sharon was brimming with confidence:

Rillito River Racetrack

The race was off and the speed of the horses blew the sweat off our faces.






Unfortunately, just like Santa's Little Helper, the horse we picked came straggling in last place.

Good thing we don't gamble.