On Saturday night we went to the dogs (for non Essex people, the greyhound races) to avoid our neighbours' Rude Staring Freak Friends. Because of the football, they were giving out free tickets on our road, saving us a good six quid on entry and a race guide. I am never one to turn down a free night out. So we went, and we were even in the posh bit! Whoo! I haven't quite figured out the difference between the posh and common bits, apart from the posh bit had richer nutters in it. The carpet was slightly cleaner, and there was a lady who came up and got your drinks and put your bets on so you never needed to move, but it was still quite shit.
My strategy for betting on the dogs is quite random. I usually blow a whole pound on each race, sadly you can't bet any less, and sometimes the names of the dogs just speak to me. I never even bother to look at their form, age, how many legs they've got etc, the favourite never wins. So my strategy for a while was dogs with names in their names, such as Big Dave, Paulee's Pal, Disco Lulu. They all to a dog came in last. The only time I won was when I picked complete random dogs and then as I bet so much money on them (!) I got about 20p back. I am still to this day upset about the time I knew a dog called Hot Chocolate was going to win, but I didn't go with my gut and put a fiver on it. It romped home, but my other choices for coming in second and third needn't have bothered turning up. Luckily for me, hubbie who thinks he is a gambling genius did less well, and he studied the guide like a proper serious gambler! I think the lesson here is: Don't gamble kids.