New dumb pony club

There was a work do at the races, which did not set my heart a flutter. See, I’m not a pony girl. I’m not hot for horses. I don’t quite understand horse racing – it’s just gambling on animal performance. And there’s something about racetracks that seems really bleak.

The function had a dress code, wherein ladies were advised to wear a cocktail dress. But ever since the cocktail dress incident of ’96, well, let’s just say that there are some promises that can never be broken. I wore jeans.

So, upon arriving I checked out the bar. On the weekend I was having a discussion about how the worst drink in the world is anything that can be described as “complementary bubbly”, i.e. cheap sparkling white wine that someone is providing (free!!!!) in attempt to class things up. Well, there was complementary bubbly a go-go.

I sat down with my complementary bubbly and read the race guide. A few pages in was “a ladies’ guide to betting,” which seemed to have been written in 1962.

[L]ife itself is a bit of a gamble. We marry, buy dresses one size too small in anticipation of a huge weight loss and we embark on a myriad of programmes to preserve our looks and prolong our lives. Any dead certs in there? Only one so far that I can see.

You know how some people ask if feminism is still relevant in our modern society? Well, when I got to the part where it compared horses with husbands (lolz!!!) I knew the answer.

The race guide also had a hilarious list of the theme tune each jockey had picked to be played after his or her victory. Now, it’s probably not a huge surprise that most of them were songs with obvious victory choruses, like “U Can’t Touch This”, “I Want It All”, “Blaze of Glory” and “These Boots Were Made For Walking”. But there were a few unusual choices, like “Of Wolf and Man”, Metallica’s song about a shape-shifting man-wolf, and the “Ghostbusters” theme song, suggesting a Scooby-Doo-like adventure featuring a horse being ridden by a goulish jockey.

As it happened, I couldn’t bet on any of the horses because I didn’t have any cash. If I did, I could have followed the “ladies’ guide” and chosen the horses based on their names or the colour of the jockey’s shirt. (“$20 each way on Princess Fluffy and the one in the pink shirt!!!!”) That would have been fantastic.

The magic combination of complementary bubbly plus horse racing plus bad ’80s music (Really, since when did Club Nouveau’s 1987 cover of “Lean on Me” ever get any party started?) did not add up to a good time.

So the valuable lesson learned is that Robyn and the horse-racing experience does not make a good combination. Perhaps I should stick to greyhound racing.

5 thoughts on “New dumb pony club”

  1. My ‘hood, which was also my childhood ‘hood, is beside the racecourse. I grew up around racing people (the belle now known as Nicky Watson lived in the same street as me), yet we never went to the races ourselves. When I asked harvestdad if I could go with some friends, at the age of about thirteen, he said no. My folks didn’t think it was safe or seemly.

    Despite an affection for horses (kindled as an adult by being friends with Mariella, whose family were horse people, and being placed in a two-horse hug by Deena’s two horses) I still haven’t been to the races, although I’m well familiar with the racecourse thanks to the Sunday markets and the long grassy strip adjacent it that makes an excellent place to walk dogs. It still strikes me as not quite safe (Gamblor!) or seemly, not least for someone who is by no means (including screwing up your eyes to put me in a kinder light) built for big hats and tiny dresses.

  2. Before I listened to that clip, I thought Gamblor might have been some sort of lolhorse thing. im in ur staybil eeting ur hey.

    And speaking of gamblors, one of the jockey theme tunes was The Gambler, which always reminds me of Hamilton 🙁

  3. We often went to the races when we were kids – with our parents, obviously. Not the big hat, matching dress, handbags and shoes type but the sitting in the stands, eating hot chips and hotdogs type.
    I love going to the races and have fond memories of being allowed to freely wander about – picking horses by how they looked in the display ring thingy.
    Oh yes as children we were encourage to gamble!

    Dylan and I have never been to the races together however when Harrison is a bit older I’d like to take him to show him how “cool”it is (while he sits around thinking that his mum doesn’t know what cool is).

  4. You know how some people ask if feminism is still relevant in our modern society? Well, when I got to the part where it compared horses with husbands (lolz!!!) I knew the answer.

    I’m dying to know what the answer is!

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