I was a neophyte to the whole horse racing world. People of every shape and description filled the casino on Saturday afternoon. Old men with wrinkled dark faces and fat stogies lodge between their teeth rubbed elbows with husband and wife teams dressed in their Sunday best and young parents with children in tow. The variety of humans made an indelible impression upon me as I walked around the smoke filled building absorbing sounds and colors and smells.The caterwauling of a child unhappy with her location mixed with the hoarse cheers and curses of habitual betters. Beautiful horse flesh contrasted with the pale and thin bodies of people wasting themselves and their money.
I bet $5 on the number three horse in the fifth race at Philadelphia Park and I won. The horse's name: Magic Mischief. (Doesn't that sound cool?)
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