Inconvenient Timing and the Golden Mean

What a beautiful day for the races it was. The sun was shining. It was neither hot nor cold. The smell of grilled burgers filled the air. There were literally dozens of hot women wandering around the track in their sun dresses and fancy hats. The scumbag regulars and well to do, once-a-year outsiders mixed genially. There is no event in American life that compares to Kentucky Derby day.

My buddy Nick just had two teeth pulled a couple of days earlier, so he arrived with a fresh container of Vicadin to ease his pain. He offered me one. I accepted it, broke it in two to offset the effects of the time release coating, and washed it down with a Budweiser. As I was on an empty stomach, I began feeling the benumbing effects of the drug fairly soon.

Rick arrive soon thereafter, and within an hour or so we had pounded a couple more beers and went off to the bleachers to smoke some chronic. When we returned, I enjoyed a nice Cohiba Nick’s fiancés mom had brought back from Mexico. I was really flying high.

But it turned out that, like Icarus, I was flying a little too high. The three of us were in the interior hallway at the track, surrounded by people, watching the preliminary events leading up to the Derby on an antiquated television. Just as the singing of “My Old Kentucky Home” was coming to an end, I was overwhelmed by a strong claustrophobic sensation which was coupled by an immediate cold sweat, shaking and the feeling my heart was going to burst. I immediately went outside and walked around in circles for a minute or two, breathing deeply and telling myself I’d had this feeling a million times before. (Which is true, but this fact never makes it any easier.) I tried to return to the simulcast, but came back outside again.

I returned inside once more, just as the horses were entering the starting gate. My panic had seemingly peaked, though I was still very high and shaken by the experience. I watched the race and even hit on one of my plays, garnering a one half return of my total wager. But the event had been somewhat tarnished by my adverse chemical reaction. I had obviously overdone it. And I felt stupid and just a little bit juvenile.