Looks like a promising Friday night. My head gardener, Luis, is hosting the area’s annual cockfighting championships in his backyard this evening, and he graciously extended an invitation to me. Given my longstanding love affair with the Sport of Kings, I readily accepted.
Smart move on his part, too — it never hurts to suck up to the boss.
Mind you, I don’t normally associate with the poor. Or the middle class. But I’m always willing to make an exception when it comes to four of life’s simplest pleasures: fast food, prostitutes, illegally obtained prescription drugs, and cockfights.
Given the seedy neighborhood I’ll be in, a superfecta is a distinct possibility. Wish me luck.