Weight 13st 11 (but how? That's not possibly. Admittedly the socialising can't be helping but that really makes no sense). CNPS numbers spotted 15 (716).
Took 23 to Wimbledon for the greyhound racing. This was another phenomenally good idea for a date as it's a bit tacky and funny, but also actually quite exciting. I haven't been to the greyhounds for years and never had much luck before, but things went pretty well on the gambling front tonight. The first race we saw had only four runners giving us better odds of guessing the right dog, but of course less good odds at the same time. But I put a tenner on number 6 because I liked the striped little jersey he was wearing best of all (as the colours are the same for each number in each race this could have ended up with a lot of bets for the 6 dog through the night, but I was planning to use different criteria for each).
Amazingly our dog (and I feel that by investing in its fortunes we had come to partially own it now) came romping home giving us an immediate profit of £22.50. Plus I looked cool for knowing about which dogs were best and that. I pretended that the jersey thing had just been a kind of a joke.
The races were at 15 minute intervals, which is just enough time to have a bit of a drink and a chat before getting excited about which animal you are going to bet on next (I managed to avoid the temptation to make the rubbish joke of "I'm going to bet on that hare. It wins every time!" - this is a sure fire way to destroy all the good work you've done in bringing a woman to a filthy stadium to watch dogs running quickly in a circle).
In the next race 23 chose the dog, but alas it came in a very close second (and double alas because the winning dog was at 6 to 1 and we'd have been quids in if we'd got it right). The dog we chose next did a wee on a lamp-post as it was being walked around in front of us before the race. I didn't know if this was a good or bad sign. It turned out to be bad. I should have known. After all I managed to run an entire Marathon without having a wee, so it was a bit rubbish if this dog couldn't even manage less than 500 metres without having to mark its territory. It came last. The next time round I picked a dog that shared a name with my old Phsics teacher, Mr Dodd. Again, my judgement was sound. It romped home winning us £50.
The next race was no good for us, but then I put twenty pounds on a dog called "One Point Seven" (17 is the number I always play in roulette) and though the odds weren't great it did win and we doubled our money.
By now we were quite drunk and happy and needed some food so we decided to put another twenty pounds on number 2 and then go for dinner whatever the result. we were going to win £92 if it won, which would leave us well up and pay for dinner and mean this would be the first date where I went home with more money than I started with. The dog was called something like "German Chriss" and I liked the superfluous s. This was a one and a half lap race and the first time the dogs passed us, Chriss was in the lead. As they went round for the last lap it seemed that he was maintaining his superiority, but it was hard to tell as the dogs were quite bunched up. I was pretty certain our boy was nosing ahead though and when the pack came round the corner with a clear leader we both thought we'd won again. "Yes," cried 23, punching the air.
Then I noticed that the dog that won had a number 4 on and no superfluous s in its name.
But we were well up in cash terms anyway, so we were able to laugh at our over-excitement. We went to a restaurant and our winnings at least partially covered the bill.
Of course had we lost in every race rather than won almost half of them the evening might not have been such fun. When I saw the weeing dog's odds I had been pretty sure we wouldn't win that particular race and had rashly promised 23 that I would marry her if it won. She seemed to be quite pleased about this and we had entered a verbal contract, so I was quite relieved when the gods of dog racing (same gods as 1-6 of CNPS) demonstrated that this would be the wrong course of action by sending that dog in last.
I wonder if anyone lives their life by the results of greyhound racing in the same way as the Dice Man did with dice. It might be more fun as the odds of each dog winning are not equal and so you could have more outlandish consequences for the outsider dogs. I may give that a go. It's not like my life isn't mental enough at the moment as it is.
