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April 7, 2009 No Comments

So this year, whilst having some sort of mental midlife breakdown sarah convinces me we should go to the races. And not just any races. The Grand National. All i knew about the Grand National, and horse racing as a whole could’ve fitted on the scrap of paper my sweep stake horse from work came on. 

But she lured me with the promise of a grand stand, some champers and food, the fact she said she’d buy the ticket as a very belated birthday gift through her boyfriends work didn’t detract either.

So there i am expecting glitz and glamour, posh frocks and Verve Cliquot all the way – but in reality what i get are cans of fosters, perving old men and people in hawaiian shirts! Seriously, i am not kidding. The girl at Ryans office screwed up the booking, so instead of the uber posh bit we get the ‘oh, really, you’ve come in your trackies, of course you can come to ascot sir’ area, complete with burgers vans and drunken teenagers. So, there i am, almost in heels, with a posh{ish} dress on and there are people in tracksuits. And they are the people on our trip…… If i knew i could have gotten away with casual it would’ve been jeans and cons all the way!

But besides being forced to mingle with the general, tracksuit wearing, public for over 12hrs, having to sit on a coach filled mostly with drunken, loud and underdressed girls {which at 9am is not something i want to experience any time soon again!} and losing all of £15 on bets {proof, betting on names you like, not form, isn’t a winning formula}, i actually had fun! 

I think the fun having may have had something to do with the vast quantities of contraband vodka smuggled in in hipflasks, but the general amusment that can be had whilst laughing at the general public mentioned previously, and the excitement of the 40 seconds of horse racing i witnessed as the National galoped past me might have had something to do with it too. 

Next time however i will be demanding that grand stand i was promised. Unless i can go in my trainers too?

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