When I was little we lived right by Belmont Park Race Track. My favorite days were when my dad would take me there to bet on horses. A high-risk roller, my dad always let me pick the horse even though I was only four. By the time I was five I figured I didn't need him anymore to bet on horses. I was a pretty seasoned player, besides I had ten dollars. I planned on walking over with my best friend Patty, making a few grand, and then taking off for a series of adventures. It was easy to get out of any adult supervision since my parents and Patty's had left us with a fourteen year-old babysitter named Maureen who said she had to go when she got called for lunch by her mother (she said it was because they were eating hot dogs and we were vegetarian).
When I told Patty about my plan she only had one condition, I had to let her borrow an outfit. I said no problem, and soon we were on our way. Just as we were about to make our way across Hempstead Turnpike, probably about to get smooshed like ants, my dad pulled up. He was only slightly shocked when I told him where we were going, then he laughed and asked where Maureen was. I told him she had to go to home for lunch. My dad said that would be the last time they left us with Maureen.