10-15/HorseSh*t and HandCream

My past experiences of some of the greatest "bankers' hours" events has been limited to a drunken recap of a scenario that has just occurred.

Me ( usually at work ) : "hello"
whoever : "You gotta see it, a whole bachelorette party"
Me : "what?"
who : "all of em, ( putting phone away from mouth ) nobodies ( yelling in their direction )
Me : " where..?"
who : " I was just having cappuccinos with Pete Sampras, he had to leave to meet up with Brady Quinn and they are going squirrel hunting. Then all these putans marched in. "

Finally I am a part of these festivities, as now I can attend anything that you all can attend with my "bankers' hours."


This Saturday October 17, Far Hills will be hosting their annual Steeplechase Championship, otherwise known as, "The Hunt." The "classy" tailgate, as I always imagined it, involves a class conflict all drinking together to celebrate horsies.


I remember a few years back Paps mentioning "the Hunt." The first couple of times he said it, I didn't register what exactly this was. Between me thinking about what I would order for lunch and zoning out at work, I thought he was talking about a not very nice female, otherwise referring to her as "That **NT." Really he was talking up, "The Hunt."


This year, as I'll proudly mention again, I have weekends off finally and have been invited to this year's Hunt. Never having been there before, I thought about last year and how I got a play by play, inspiring me to write http://cornerbar-cwk.blogspot.com/2008/10/food-committee.html, as a review of 2008's event.

Here's what I can remember.....

Phone call # 1 - 1 hour into it.

" I tell you what. There are lots of fine broads here. This is where you want to be."

Phone call # 2 - 3 hours into it.

" If you want to find a nice girl, this is it. Class................Class. Probably nice families, catholic......this one, look at this one. Probably went to Vandy..."

Phone call # 3 - 5 hours into it.
EXTREMELY LOUD
"You gotta see these spreads. Brisket. Wine. CLASS baby, CLASS. UUU--FA! Como se dice! This one just walked by in a sundress. It's 50 degrees out. CLASS baby. "

I'm not sure exactly how this year will pan out. Rain for four days should make the ground nice and muddy. My bow tie may not make it out, but seeing Fabe in mock wellington boots might just make up for it.

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