she said, “you keep bringing meout to these fucking horse races and I lose, god damn it,it’s all so useless and ignorant, I hate it, I justhate it!” her purse had a long strap and she was swinging itaround and around with great velocity. we were walking out of the track after thelast race. “I told you,” I said, “not to bet the horses withhigh speed ratings, especially at comparativedistances.” “but shit,” she screamed, “why doesn’t it work?the horse that ran faster last time, why doesn’the win against the slower ones?” “anybody can take a short price on exposed form,”I said. “it’s self-defeating.” “goddamn you!” she screamed. “I hate you and I hate horses!” and she swung her purse around and around on itslong strap. then there was a hard harsh thud:she had just hit the man on the headwho was walking behind us. the poor soul was badly staggered.an elderly Mexican. I held him up by the arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said,“it was an accident!she didn’t mean to hit you with herpurse!she has lost a great deal of money todayand she’s a little crazy!I’m very sorry!”
