Preakness 2006

It was supposed to be a better story than this. I was supposed to come back from the 131st Preakness Stakes with a new appreciation for tailgating with 150,000 of Baltimore's best party animals (the humans, not the horses), the knowledge that no one's hat was as cute as mine (seriously, it wasn't), and fantastic tales of what happens when you combine copious amounts of booze with boys who you like and boys who like you (but aren't necessarily the same boys).

By all counts, the day started off fantastically. I had downed my first beer by 8 AM (there's only a few times a year that you can say that and not come off like an alcoholic), we had seen at least one horse by 9 AM (most times you can go to Preakness all day and not see a single one), and despite losing them at the beginning, we had actually found our entire group again by 10. By noon, Reid was making passes at me (and demanding to know what was up with the boy I was with -- I wasn't sure at that point; there was still hope), at 1 I took a 45 minute nap (interrupted by the drunk people coming to "check on me"). Ok, maybe I passed out. But I was among friends, and they were going to make sure that I didn't get molested and that I was up for the big race at 6 PM!

All in all, it was a glorious day. Best of all, my phone was still enjoying multiple showings of The DaVinci Code, so I wasn't disturbed by anyone wanting to call and get the drunken first-hand account of the race. Which, I couldn't really provide anyway because by 12:30 I was having a problem identifying what a horse -- any horse -- even looked like.

Then, this happened...



I actually didn't understand the full extent of it until we got home late that night. I had seen Barbaro in the warm-up, but by the time the horses reached us at the 3/8ths mark, he was already out of it. As we sat on the bus debating whether it was a better idea to kill Reid for yelling at the bus driver or to make out -- we chose making out, and I recommend it highly for anyone who is faced with that decision in the future -- and Kadrunk had a fight with his girlfriend, we started to think about just what we had seen.

We were sad for the horse.

Then our bus got into a beer throwing fight with the bus next to us. All hands were needed to help in the effort. It was fun, but then, we ran out of beer.

We were sad for ourselves.

Then, the boy I was making out with BIT ME. And no, it wasn't "like a nibble on your ear, can't wait to get you home and see what I'm going to do next" type of biting. It was a "I haven't had anything substantial to eat in three hours and your shoulder's looking damn tasty" type of biting. Not a pretty scene.

Three hours later, I was off the bus. I was stone-cold sober, which was always a good thing when you need to drive home. Lestat offered to go with me, but I had had enough of his antics. We said goodnight, and while I'm pretty sure I'll never go out with him again, I was glad for the fact that he was there to run interference for me!

So, who wants to go next year?