Bad Moves.

Essay by MNelliA+, November 2003

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Bad Moves

I have never been excessively wealthy, but always was in good financial standing. Most would find comfort in that; I however found room for improvement. I am only twenty years of age so there is till time in my life to make my fortune. However, living in an area where millions of dollars could separate your home from your neighbors makes me constantly crave more than what I have, and in most case more than I can afford. For the duration of the summer any hours not spent at work were usually spent at a place that gave me the financial situation I desired, the track. Arlington International Race Track is the formal title it goes by, but it is simply the track to us. The group that attends consists of the same eight or nine guys with a few randoms who make there way out now and then.

With a decent knowledge of horse racing and a little bit of luck any person can walk out of there with a good amount of cash in their hand.


"Hey I'm out front," I said in a collective manner to my girlfriend. Which was difficult for me to do since I had been sitting in her driveway for ten minutes already.

"I'll be out in a sec!"

I felt like saying who the fuck you kiddin', "O.K. Hun."

I am not the most patient of people, and when it comes to gambling that truth grows greatly. The single guys have the luxury of being at the track a good hour before post, those of us who get the luxury of a girlfriend, well that's a different story.

"Morning, how are you?" I ask in a manner, which obviously shows I don't care. Her running late could cost me...