Girls Sorta Gone Wild

Okay, one of my exploits that led to my becoming the Detention Queen while in high school was the time three of us decided to see a real horse race.

Now, they have a full race card of thoroughbred races at the Fair Grounds in season that starts in the early afternoon.  Unfortunately, high schools have this thing about having classes in the afternoon. . . . . But, a friend (not to be named, as she has aspirations to the state legislature -- she wants to make her money the easy way!) talked up the idea and we decided to make a day of it.

Starting with lunch.  Now, we all had sympathy for both dogs and cats, and passed up the usual school cafeteria lunch and instead repaired to Mandina's where we had oyster po-boys and gumbo. There was a group of elderly ladies there, and they gave us tips on the race, this being New Orleans and all.

It was fun at the races!  We got in without a comment, despite the fact that we were wearing school uniforms.  We were able to bet on the nags, and hang out in the clubhouse (though we had only grandstand passes).  The little guy that blows the horn that calls the mounts to the starting gate was cute and amusing.  Big spenders us, we bet the minimum bet on each race and went for the double and the trifecta.

I won the daily double!  There followed on our part the typical excessive display of delight, usually intended to call the attention of 17-year-olds of the male persuasion. And, while they were present in numbers, this was not a sound tactic.


Alas, but one of the local teevee stations had their camera at the track, and they were panning the crowd. We were caught red-handed, and in our Catholic school girl uniforms.  (Locally, the pattern of skirts worn by Catholic school girls are distinctive, depending on the school.)  What to do?  Brazen it out.  As a matter of fact, we pursed and smacked our lips and made high-five gestures (like the wanton little trollops were to do years later in those sordid little GGW videos that they now offer for sale).  Maybe they wouldn't run the tape: a good thought, since New Orleans always has its usual quota of good sex and violence to entertain the masses watching the teevee news.  (They also watch the hairdos and the cleavage on the News Team, but that's New Orleans for you.)

It was a slow news day.  And they ran the tape, commenting that "here were some happy winners . . . . apparently, school was out at __________ Academy today." Then, all we could hope was for an early bedtime for the nuns.

The next morning, the first announcement on the speaker was: Angel ________, Jessica __________, and Heather _________, come to the office IMMEDIATELY!


Busted!

My punishment on the parental level was slight.  Dad was impressed that I won the Daily Double!