When will I ever listen?
The taxi man didn't quite get me to Churchill Downs. Something about not having the right sticker. Who knows if this was even a cab. It was yellow, anyway. The man dropped me a half-mile from Churchill's main entrance. It was going to be a long walk. It was going to be a long day.
All the umbrella sales were taking place on the opposite side of Central Avenue. Crossing the road was not allowed. Something about barricades and police. I hadn't taken the weather reports seriously. I didn't ...
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