Horse Race Amnesia


Sometimes my brain lets me down…and sometimes it just makes me look a complete twat.

It had been a long and very boozy day out with my mates at the horses, followed by a quick trip into London for even more drinks and a curry.  Given the late hour and the copious amounts of beer I’d consumed it was perhaps not surprising that I’d almost immediately fallen asleep on the hour long train journey back to my home town (which is thankfully where the train terminates).

After a gentle nudge from a fellow passenger to wake me up I very groggily and still rather drunkenly stepped onto the platform just after midnight.

“Hi Matt” I heard someone call and turned to find a work colleague Anne standing there with someone who she introduced me to as her daughter.

“Oh, hi Anne”…I slurred “and nice to meet you too” I said smiling at her teenage daughter

“You’re looking very smart” she said (I had dressed up in a suit to go to the races and was indeed looking rather dapper), “What have you been up to today?”

“Why thank you” I said “I’ve been to….” This was not a dramatic pause here, this was me standing there frantically trying to think what I had been doing.  A combination of waking from a deep sleep and drinking a substantial amount of beer had apparently resulted in complete brain failure.

The next 10 seconds (which seemed much longer) were spent thinking:

“OMG where have I been?  Come can’t forget what you’ve done all day…you’re in a suit for God’s sake – that must be a clue…oh please, just say something…even if you just make it up.  Anything as long as you don’t just say…”

“…erm, I don’t know.”

Ahhh – that!!!

They both stared at me.  The daughter finally spoke, very slowly, as if to a small child… “So,    you     don’t     know     where    you’ve    been     today?”

Oooh, a second chance where I could cheekily smile and say “only kidding, I’ve been to….”

Oh please brain help me out here, suit…work function, wedding – anything…seriously…nothing?

“…erm, no, I can’t remember where I have been all day.”

There was not a lot more to say so I mumbled my goodbyes and started the 30 minute walk back to my house.  From the laughter and “oh my God!” comments (that probably could have waited till I was slightly further out of earshot) I knew that this would be a a tale Anne would (justifiably) relish telling everyone at work on Monday.

15 minutes!  That’s how long it took my brain to finally remember that I’d been horse racing.  Too little and 15 minutes too late.  Thanks brain.

Next: Sheep Dip