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PTSOTL OG D. Jean Mustard got stuck at the airport. Now what?
With all the flight delays and what not happening now that winter is fully upon us, I felt I should share a little Mustard wisdom as to what to do if you find yourself delayed at the airport.
With all the flight delays and what not happening now that winter is fully upon us, I felt I should share a little Mustard wisdom as to what to do if you find yourself delayed at the airport.
Recently my tight bro was in town visiting and I told him I'd give him a lift to the airport. By the time we got there, it turned out his flight was delayed by about 4 hours. We did what any average scumbags would do, turned that car around and went right to the track. Suffolk Downs is only 10 minutes from Logan, a few beers, couple of laughs, what not.
If you're uninitiated to the thrill that is Suffolk Downs, you're really missing out. You ever watch one of the countless Boston movies like The Town or Mystic River or Anal Assault 13 and think man, no one from Boston is really like that? You're wrong, they're all like that, you're just not hanging out in the right places.
There was no live racing for the day so we had to settle on simulcast and the Pats on the tube. Simulcast is basically watching racing on TV, and since we didn't have a racing form -- $2? Fuck that -- we were betting on the odds, which is honestly a ridiculous way to bet. Essentially, you see who is picking who to win (the lower the odds, the more people that bet on it) and then try to pair that with who the second horse might be for an "exacta." Best case, you're maybe able to pay for your bar tab.
While we were there a gentleman in a purple suit and a purple fedora carrying a matching purple cane asked us if we wanted to buy any blow. We declined, it being Sunday and all. A couple of the regulars called out to him, "Chicken Joe, how's it go?" HAHA, Boston is so racist!! This gentleman, Mr. Chicken, did not appreciate this "race bullshit" or this "stereotype" bullshit, which was pretty rich considering he was dressed like a fucking pimp from 1973.
As the Pats barely held the spread, trickles of "these bums aren't 14 fucking points better than anyone," rang out through the bar. I just stayed focused on the odds at Bay Meadows and tried to just cash a winning ticket. Sometimes, you just have to cash a ticket to get over the hump. Any fucking easy bet will do it, just to get that confidence back. Think about it like hooking up with some busted broad/dude in college, sure it's not a big winner but it gets you back in the saddle and ready to love again, or something like that.
Anyway, towards the end of the day, still with no winners, I threw down $5 on a 40/1 to place. The race happens, my pony comes in third and I walk to the cashier counter with a nice shit-eating grin only to be told I bet it to place (come in 2nd), not to show (come in 3rd.) These fucking townies really have some hard lingo to go with this shit. I left empty-handed. Still though, beats sitting in Panera Bread for 4 hours. And that's how you make the best of a flight delay.
PS: They have a place to get your haircut there, so feel free to tell the old lady you're going for a trim and will be back in a few hours, depending on the wait.
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2 comments:
So how was the coke?
made for a pretty nervous TSA patdown
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