Satin Halo and the Margaritas

A friend of mine took me to the horse races this past week. He’s a big racing fan and I have a less passionate interest. We sat behind two married couples.

The two men in front were rigorously analyzing the race forms, comparing the prior race data of the horses. They were looking at previous race times, furlong splits, recent training times, the weights of the jockeys and entering the data into a laptop one of the men had with him. When they were satisfied they decided ‘Appealing Air’ was the horse to place the money on in race 5. They marched off to the betting windows having completely researched the issue. I was impressed.

Meanwhile the two wives chatted happily about their grandchildren. When the horses came through for the pre-race walk-around, they turned their attention to the horses. Both of them were particularly partial to “Satin Halo’, a brilliantly colored black 3 year old. He was a grand animal. Sitting atop “Satin Halo” was a female jockey with baby blue silks trimmed in yellow and black checks.

The ladies declared her to be strikingly elegant in the baby blue and they were thoroughly won over by the combination of the blackness of the animal and the attire of the jockey.

Following the example of their men, the women also skee-daddled for the betting windows before the race. I was not impressed. I even laughed at them.

Satin Halo won the race in a breeze. It was no contest. Appealing Air limped home in fifth.

The men were disgruntled and frustrated. The ladies? They missed the race. They were inside buying a margarita in a lovely etched souvenir glass.