Voodoo's Room

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Location: D/FW, Texas

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Breeders Cup and an Exploding Cup


I'm going to bore those who aren't horsie fans with my ponies first....or I suppose you can skip this and move on to the explosion story!

Well, needless to say, I didn't do very well betting wise at the Breeders Cup this year but it's okay. I had a total blast watching the races and I just love the sweet horsies.

Folklore won the Juvenile Fillies. I was very disappointed in Diamond Omi's last place finish. And if Wild Fit had not had such a HORRIFIC trip around the race track she certainly would have won.

Stevie Wonderboy won the Juvenile impressively. He is big, rangy colt and looked gorgeous. I still say First Samurai is next year's Kentucky Derby winner if he stays healthy. But you never know, Wonderboy could break the Juve/Derby jinx.

Intercontinental was amazing going wire to wire in the Fillies & Mares Turf.

I can't say how disappointed I was that Lost in the Fog didn't win the Sprint but Silver Train ran his heart out was definitely the best that day.

Artie Schiller beat Leroidesanimaux in the Mile in what I thought was the best race of the day.

The Distaff turned into a longshot fest with Pleasant Home leading the way home for a price.

The horses came from over the pond to run in the Turf and they finished 1-2-3-4 with Scirocco winning over Ace, Azamour, and Bago.

And St. Liam certainly wrapped up horse of the year by winning the Classic over Flower Alley and Perfect drift.


And now....exploding cups.

Today I had about 24906438634 errands to run for the boss. Everything I did took about 20 minutes longer than it should have and I decided I was going to lunch before I went back to the office. I called my hubby and asked what he felt like for lunch. After deciding that a call in to On The Border was the best choice, I finished running and then stopped off at OTB on my way to hubby's office so we could eat together. I was frustrated and ready to be still and what should have been:

1. Run inside

2. Pay

3. Leave

Turned in to:

1. Run inside

2, 3, 4, 5. Wait

So I finally got our food. Moving quickly from frustrated to downright pissed off, I get me, my keys, my purse, our bag of food, and two large cokes into the car. Now, when OTB says "large cokes" they mean it. These two cups were approximately the size of Big Gulps. (Who needs that much fluid in one sitting, I ask you?) Each cup barely fits into the two cup holders in my husband's Olds.

Certainly the engineers at Olds or whomever is responsible thought that they were saving great space when they put one cup holder in the console and one between the steering wheel and the window for the driver. If you are driving at high rates of speed and have your hands properly situated at ten and two then a simple extension of the pinky finger will allow you to make actual contact with your beverage. And, I dare say, if you have large hands, you could actually grip your cup with your fingers while steering with your thumb. There's only one problem. Cups are either too large or too small to actually fit in the cup holder. (I haven't tried a real live can of beer but that is probably what fits since it's such a good idea to drink beer and drive.)

So (although, my audience I'm sure you are guessing what is about to happen) I begin the 2 mile trek from OTB to OFC of HUB.

I'm beginning to relax and look forward to the meal. I can smell my chicken nachos as I drive and I'm hoping that they remembered my extra jalapenos. I'm also on my cell phone telling hubby I'll be there in 2 and 2. Just then the car in front of me decides that the lane is inappropriate and performs the single worst lane change on the face of the earth. (It wasn't like the way Talented Writer Sis-in-Law changes lanes. When she changes lanes you actually create a small ripple in the space-time continuum and sort of morph from the lane you are in to the lane she wants to be in. It's breathtaking I tell you. No; this moron sort of half changed, changed back and then swerved into the right lane. It sucked.)

So, thinking that there may be more idiocy to follow, I tapped my brakes. Not slammed. Not even pushed. I tapped them. At that precise moment, the Big Gulp sized styrofoam cup of coke starts to fall over in slow motion. Every muscle in my body froze as I tried to avoid the non-lanechanger, watch for the light to turn yellow as I drove through a busy intersection and not look away from the road, and not drop my cell phone. The cup sort of rolls off the cup holder and into my lap where it somehow stays intact.

Struggling to grab the cup and still drive it leaves a trail of coke from mid thigh to mid-shin as it continues it's path to the floor where, upon impact, it explodes. I now have a puddle of coke the size of Lake Superior on the floor under my feet being semi-absorbed by my pant leg.

I think I screamed every cuss word I know in about 1.3 seconds. This fit also resulted in hanging up on my hubby.

I have nothing wonderful to report at the end of this story except tonight I get to clean the floor of hubby's car. He did come downstairs with four paper towels in an attempt to help but neither of us had anything remotely absorbent enough to take care of the mess. I'm going to need at least 45 chamois to get it all out.

The nachos were good, by the way and they did remember my extra jalapenos.

1 Comments:

Blogger Michelle Miles said...

OMG It's just TOO FUNNY!

2:53 PM  

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