British Invasion

What a beautiful day! How about going to the Races? Like with His Lloydness and Miss Susan! Brilliant!

A Brilliantly Perfect Idea. Perfect, of course, until we met Mad Max the Maitre’ D. Shortly upon arrival at the 5th Floor atop the Clubhouse at the Fairgrounds we were directed to the area where we would be sitting (not only to watch the races, but, to take part in their outstanding buffet). Things were a bit muddled with the seating arrangements and we (His Lloydness, Miss Susan, Cynthia, and I) strayed down a level from where “our group” (Southeastern Alumni Association) had been placed. With several empty tables at that level we chose one at which to sit. Certainly no one was there; in fact there were several empty tables. Then it happened…completely out of nowhere…Mad Max appears…he directs us to vacate our table…his tone was quite rude (he was after all, British and they do have a tendency to talk down to people {not me, of course} as I said later to Cynthia, he and I were both born in Britain and we were allowed to be difficult, to which he took offense, imagine that)…while demanding that we move..this stubborn Limey…found a much more stubborn Southerner in His Lloydness…”Take me to a table that where we can sit then” said LAS…then a back and forth ensued with both sides refusing to budge on their earlier statements…at some point in this heated exchange I think I heard the words…”don’t push me”…”I am not pushing you, I am touching you”…”you are being difficult”…”Oh no sir, I am not being difficult, you haven’t see difficult, yet” (nice one Lloyd)…silently I listen in on this verbal joust…and then not to interrupt or cause a further scene I queried the Maitre’ D as to whether or not he was in the people business…because it didn’t seem that he was in fact in the people business…oops, more ire from the Limey…then we decided it was time to exit stage left…we took the high road to the top section and separated ourselves from the hostile Brit (he really was a "cheeky bugger")…he reappeared in our new section on two other occasions…feigning his interest in whether or not we had a table…apparently someone (probably not his conscience) had gotten to him. I will say one thing for His Lloydness...he didn't stoop to calling him "a fat piece of sh**" {Trust me, the big ole Tow Truck Driver that towed my truck from near the Superdome deserved it!}

While we did bet on and enjoy the races…even won three…made a couple bucks…had some really good food…corn beef and cabbage (freaking excellent)…enjoyed the company of many people…the faceoff between His Lloydness and the Brit was the highlight of the day.

An addendum to this post...I have been instructed by Cynthia to tell everyone to use the word Bast**d immediately after the word Limey in this post.

Bloody Good Show Lloyd
Viva His Lloydness and Miss Susan
Viva Cynthia
Viva Hand Crafted (he paid $41.90, BABEE)
Peace Upon You