As many of you know, I like to play horse racing. While we do have live racing locally, we also have a race book at the track, where I can wager on anything that’s running in North America, even if they’re not running locally.
Understand also, that I have very little family. My closest relative is my sister, who lives in another city. But I do have a pile of friends, most of whom have left town this Christmas. So, I’m pretty much on my own this Christmas. No problem, there’s football on TV on Christmas day, and I’ve got plenty of food, and I’m well-stocked with DVD movies.
So how does the race book and me spending Christmas alone come together? When I was at the race book today, I mentioned that I’d be alone, but that didn’t bother me because of TV sports and DVDs and such. When asked what my Christmas dinner was going to be, I answered, “I dunno … maybe I’ll grill a burger, or make a plate of pasta, or something.”
Well! The staff knows me, knows that I’m a regular, knows that I’ll be back likely on Tuesday (hey, Santa Anita is running Tuesday) and they wanted to do something. So when I left, they presented me with a takeout bag from the kitchen. “It’s a turkey dinner,” they said. “For you, for Christmas. From us.”
Dammit, that was unexpected. Actually, it blew me away. It came clear out of the blue, entirely unexpectedly. I was speechless at first, but I managed to thank everybody, wish them all well, thank them again, and got on my way, before I broke down in the race book. They were so kind.
Right now, that turkey dinner is in the fridge, and I plan on enjoying it tomorrow.
Jeez, Thanksgiving is at the wrong time of year. Right about now, I am giving thanks for some very kind friends.