06-11/A Day at the Races, Pt. 1

Blue Goose looked up at me with those big black wheels and said,

"Daddy, where are we going?"

I said, "Where there are lots of strange people, booze, and horses."

"Your bedroom at night-night time?"

"Uh, no......no, well yes, but no. We're going to Belmont."

Arrival at Casa Fabian was 15 minutes late, as 7-11 wouldn't take my Citibank card. I walked out of the store to the left, looking for the bank that I knew was around there somewhere. Passing by the Chinese restaurant and the nail salon, I realized it was not here any longer. Willing to give the 7-11 Citibank ATM another shot, I headed back and saw the bank on the other side of 7-11. The extra 30 feet of walking was sure to help me burn the much needed 30 calories.

I got the cash, got the ice, and headed over to Fabe's.

I saw Steph's ring, and gave a scientific gaze at it, pretending to rate the craftsmanship. I ended it with a satisfactory nod, sucking in my cheeks, and a, " It came out perfect," as if I had been monitoring the work throughout all the steps.

"Big Whiskey and the Gru Grux King," brought us to Belmont; a short 8 minute ride. Flashing back to the Target "wheeled cooler testing area," I remember I had not tested him on gravel. I became worried.

Packed to the gills, BG rolled nicely over the yellow school bus that was going to bring us to the entrance. BG got his own seat, and I told the blue haired old man and wife to take a hike when they wanted to sit there.

In reality I sat next to Kopec and mumbled about my notebook with my writing in it. An uninterested Kopec got his lucky break from my blabbing as a relic from the "Motorhead" era got on the bus wearing a shirt that says "Make 7" on the front, and (assuming) "Up Yours" on the back. I wondered if he would point over his shoulder using his thumb in a fist with a mad face to get his point across - Probably to metrosexuals in long sleeve white linen shirts wearing boat shoes and Prada glasses.

As we arrived at the gates of Belmont, which reminds me of Shawshank, I went with Blue Goose to the separate gate for his "cooler" strip search. I think he was scared at first, as he wobbled a little when the first guard asked if we had any alcohol.

With the coolness of a William Zabka ( http://www.sweeptheleg.com/ ) character, I strutted in to the pen saying, " No, sir."

The crew that would be doing the strip search asked again if we had any alcohol. Doing my best Ryan Atwood impression from "the O.C." I stared blankly, looked sleepy, and dryly said, "No." I looked for Luke to punch out on the beach, but he wasn't there. I looked over at the rest of our crew lined up on the other side of the fence, hoping Peter Gallagher's soft eyes would be at the end cheering me on.
http://z.about.com/d/tvdramas/1/0/R/8/petergall.jpg

One more time they asked if there was any alcohol. I said again, "No." A second later they opened up the Poland Spring 1.5 Liter, and said "Alcohol," and put it aside. The same with the second one.

I looked through the iron fence and saw Fabe, Steph and Kopec, sullenly looking on. I wanted to wish them well and say, " Tell them my story." Then Fabe yelled, "Tell them we'll take it back to the car."

"I'll take them back to the car. After all it is Grey Goose."

The attendant said that would be the best idea, and agreed that the Grey Goose should be "enjoyed at a baseball game" or something. He apologetically added that there was "going to be alot of people," insinuating that there would be a problem with drinking and alot of people. Remember that for later, folks.

Fabe came back out the gate, and BG rolled along with us. Able to fly a plane, and direct tons and tons of metal around one of the world's busiest airport apparently means that I can barely dress myself. I could see a hard hat and a tie on Fabian patrolling a jobsite as he said, " They didn't check my bag going through." A light clicked.

I had already reserved myself to listening to "Birthday Sex" 45 times on 92.3 and drinking this Goose in the parking lot, when hope was regained. We hid behind a trailer and made the switch, and went back to the gate to be searched.

Much more ballsy with no chance of being caught, I returned to the search pen as if I was a regular at a bar. Just another asshole in plaid shorts, I lifted BG up onto the table for a different attendant to do the search. The top was twisted on one of the club sodas, but not fully removed, however the attendant yelled (as if it was coming out of a bullhorn), "This can NOT be opened." I protested a bit showing it was not fully off, so consequently she completed the twist of the cap and put her lovely nose to the bottle. Begrudgingly I accepted the passing the grade, only because I was happy she was proved wrong.

On the non-cooler line, there was a happening - Fabe now was going to have his backpack searched. He quickly said he was waiting for a friend and retreated from the guard. Now removing the bottles and putting them in a plastic bag, he returned to let another guard check the backpack and held the bag at his side. After they pushed aside the umbrella in the backpack, and saw it was contraband free, Fabe walked in hiding the plastic bag at his side. Success.

Just then, this guy arrived off the escalator. http://www.divingtradeint.com/llr%20guy%20sailing.jpg

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