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Drunk, Lost and AfraidĪfter an afternoon of drinking copious amounts of alcohol, I somehow got separated from my friends. I’m not at liberty to go into any more details than this, but you know the crazy “you’re all going to hell because you’re evil” protestors that are in front of the track every year? One of them drove me home. Seriously, who leaves two folks just lying on a fence? Wish We Had More Details Somehow I went out that night with friends while my girlfriend slept. After figuring out we were on our own, we walked home, getting hot dogs from a vendor on the way. I kid you not, we woke up a few hours later and the infield was basically deserted except for cleaning crews, my brother and all his friends had left. We watched the actual Derby race, and at some point shortly after both my girlfriend and I were getting tired, as it was getting late, and took a nap using the fence as back support. Ran into a bunch of friends and my brother who had been there from 6-7am and had a little campsite on the fence line on turn 3 I think, maybe turn 2. We also snuck in some liquor using plastic baggies shoved down our pants, it’s easy and worked like a charm.Īnyway, we had fun, drank all the booze, and more.
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I think we got a ride to the track that morning after working at UPS the night before (so we might have slept for 3-4 hours to get to the track around 12 or 1). The girl I was dating at the time and I lived in old Louisville at 3rd and Magnolia. I think it was 2006 or 2007, not exactly sure at this point. I quickly tell him the story and he ends up laughing so hard the whole time he moves the blockade to let us through. We finally get to bottom of Central and are thrilled to finally be close to our street when another officer tells us we can’t go through. Looking back I guess it wasn’t so bad, but just having 50,000 people walking the opposite way of you staring at you puts a weird feeling on you. I have never experienced more odd looks, people trying to give me money, and donations assuming I’m homeless, and telling me that they would pray for my baby. I didn’t really mind, but once we started walking past people that changed. My wife instantly is embarrassed and frustrated at my great idea. No sooner do we make it to top of bridge at Central that I see an absolutely horrible site: Every single person in the state of Kentucky being released from Churchill to walk up the road towards us. My next great idea was to park somewhat near the Kentucky Kingdom theme park and walk down Central with my wife, my 6-month-old baby (weather was nice before I’m judged) a stroller, and me still drunk. Here I am, quite tipsy and trying to convince police officers to let me drive down Central Avenue, but since I hadn’t gotten a new ID with that address, it was a no go.
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Little did I know that almost every single road going into my humble abode was blocked off with no entrance in. 2 miles from Churchill downs and thought maybe we could beat the traffic to get home. We had recently, like within the month, moved into a rental house about. We stayed at the track all day and had a great time, but decided to leave shortly before the last race. Lots of great drinks, great people, more great drinks. Last year Derby happened to fall on my birthday, so my in-laws had a nice Derby/birthday party for me. Here is the 2022 edition of “How I Got Home From Derby”: The Bad Husband This leads to some stellar stories, stories which we asked you to submit earlier this week. The result of all this is that year after year hoards of drunk people are left scrambling to find a way to either get home or get somewhere else to keep their evenings going. Toss in the fact that cabs/ubers are few and far between, and that the Tarc will take you to Churchill Downs but it won’t take you home, and suddenly you have yourself a massive issue. Even if you’ve managed to keep track of the people you started the day with (a task more difficult than actually making money at Churchill on Derby Day), and even if you have a suitable vehicle within walking distance, there’s a good chance that none of you are sober enough to get behind the wheel. Getting home after the Kentucky Derby is hard.