Run for the Roses
Kentucky Derby - Wikipedia
The Kentucky Derby is here once more. This day, the first Saturday in May, changed my life forever. The event, the most famous horse race on the planet, steered a course in my life that could only be described as a hard right with tires squealing, gravel flying, and crazy music blaring from the wasted car-door speakers.
All of my friends in Kansas City had been invited to the Derby by a friend that had moved back home to Louisville. I was the only girl to RSVP, anxious to party down at the Derby to see if I could forget how really bad my love life and my professional life had become, if only for a weekend. I had just turned 30--1996 wasn't going very well up to that point. I thought that going to the Derby would be just the thing to cheer me up.
Kentucky Oaks race, which is held the Friday before the Derby, is a fun locals kind of day without the intense party scene in the infield. It was a hot, sticky day, and I drank several Mint Juleps (aacckk!) to stave off thirst. I threw in a few beers for good measure, too. We had seats in the stands, so bathrooms and betting windows were handy. I went to place a bet and found myself making out under the bleachers with a guy from Atlanta that was partying with our group. Not exactly romantic--just drunk nonsense. It didn't lead to anything more savory...I was so drunk I had to leave after the races and go to...uh...bed. To pass out.
So of course, Kentucky Derby Saturday was much more subdued for me. My friend Jeanne and I wandered everywhere in Churchill Downs, looking at people, hats, horses, and the insane parties in the "infield" of the race track, which reminded me of a Dead Show scene gone horribly wrong in a Southern Gothic kind of way. And that's were I watched the Derby itself. I recall being close to the fence as the undulating mass of horse flesh sped by in a thunderous roar. Grindstone was the winner that year.
The next day, Sunday, Jeanne took me to Mammoth Cave National Park. We talked about my job, my life, what I should do on the drive home. I resolved, after talking to her, that I would quit my job (at which I had only worked for 2 and half months, and it was a horrible mistake to have accepted it), and apply at Southwest Airlines. I liked to travel. I had to catch a plane on Monday at 6:30 a.m. to get home to KC, then I had to drive straight into work.
I saw him outside the terminal building as Jeanne was pulling into the parking lot at the airport. I thought he looked cute. Then he went in, and we parked, and I forgot about the cute guy since I had to get my boarding pass and a cup of free coffee, because damn...it was Monday morning at 5:45 after Kentucky Derby weekend and coffee was not optional. I said good-bye to Jeanne and got on the plane, a Southwest Airlines flight that stopped in St. Louis, Kansas City, and on into Las Vegas. As is customary on Southwest, you sit where you want. I had to sit by someone that was interesting so I could be fully awake when I got to work. Then, there he was...in the back past the wings. Yes, the cute guy from the terminal building. The seats next to him were empty. SWEET! So I started putting my things away in the overhead bin at that row and put the tray table down on the aisle seat for my coffee. As I spun to put a bag away, I sent the coffee flying everywhere. He laughed, I cringed, the stewardess handed me paper towels, and I cleaned up and soldiered on.
The cute guy was really funny and entertaining. He was visiting his sister for the Derby and going on to Las Vegas. We chatted the whole flight and exchanged phone numbers and addresses.
So every May when the Derby comes around, I remember how nuts that weekend was, and how its outcome was so unexpected. Oh yeah...I didn't apply for a job at Southwest Airlines. I ran off to Grand Canyon to live with the hot guy from the plane only a few months later, and so began my life in the outdoor and tourism industry.
We got married two years later.
The Kentucky Derby is here once more. This day, the first Saturday in May, changed my life forever. The event, the most famous horse race on the planet, steered a course in my life that could only be described as a hard right with tires squealing, gravel flying, and crazy music blaring from the wasted car-door speakers.
All of my friends in Kansas City had been invited to the Derby by a friend that had moved back home to Louisville. I was the only girl to RSVP, anxious to party down at the Derby to see if I could forget how really bad my love life and my professional life had become, if only for a weekend. I had just turned 30--1996 wasn't going very well up to that point. I thought that going to the Derby would be just the thing to cheer me up.
Kentucky Oaks race, which is held the Friday before the Derby, is a fun locals kind of day without the intense party scene in the infield. It was a hot, sticky day, and I drank several Mint Juleps (aacckk!) to stave off thirst. I threw in a few beers for good measure, too. We had seats in the stands, so bathrooms and betting windows were handy. I went to place a bet and found myself making out under the bleachers with a guy from Atlanta that was partying with our group. Not exactly romantic--just drunk nonsense. It didn't lead to anything more savory...I was so drunk I had to leave after the races and go to...uh...bed. To pass out.
So of course, Kentucky Derby Saturday was much more subdued for me. My friend Jeanne and I wandered everywhere in Churchill Downs, looking at people, hats, horses, and the insane parties in the "infield" of the race track, which reminded me of a Dead Show scene gone horribly wrong in a Southern Gothic kind of way. And that's were I watched the Derby itself. I recall being close to the fence as the undulating mass of horse flesh sped by in a thunderous roar. Grindstone was the winner that year.
The next day, Sunday, Jeanne took me to Mammoth Cave National Park. We talked about my job, my life, what I should do on the drive home. I resolved, after talking to her, that I would quit my job (at which I had only worked for 2 and half months, and it was a horrible mistake to have accepted it), and apply at Southwest Airlines. I liked to travel. I had to catch a plane on Monday at 6:30 a.m. to get home to KC, then I had to drive straight into work.
I saw him outside the terminal building as Jeanne was pulling into the parking lot at the airport. I thought he looked cute. Then he went in, and we parked, and I forgot about the cute guy since I had to get my boarding pass and a cup of free coffee, because damn...it was Monday morning at 5:45 after Kentucky Derby weekend and coffee was not optional. I said good-bye to Jeanne and got on the plane, a Southwest Airlines flight that stopped in St. Louis, Kansas City, and on into Las Vegas. As is customary on Southwest, you sit where you want. I had to sit by someone that was interesting so I could be fully awake when I got to work. Then, there he was...in the back past the wings. Yes, the cute guy from the terminal building. The seats next to him were empty. SWEET! So I started putting my things away in the overhead bin at that row and put the tray table down on the aisle seat for my coffee. As I spun to put a bag away, I sent the coffee flying everywhere. He laughed, I cringed, the stewardess handed me paper towels, and I cleaned up and soldiered on.
The cute guy was really funny and entertaining. He was visiting his sister for the Derby and going on to Las Vegas. We chatted the whole flight and exchanged phone numbers and addresses.
So every May when the Derby comes around, I remember how nuts that weekend was, and how its outcome was so unexpected. Oh yeah...I didn't apply for a job at Southwest Airlines. I ran off to Grand Canyon to live with the hot guy from the plane only a few months later, and so began my life in the outdoor and tourism industry.
We got married two years later.
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