Please forgive my tardiness – the Gold Cup was almost a week ago and I’m just getting this to you now. It’s been a hectic week! But that horse race, let me tell you! The day started as I picked up some friends – driving past the strategically placed party buses throughout Georgetown was my clue of what to expect. Boys in shorts and bowties drinking from red cups were only topped later by the numerous guys in cars drinking from beer cans as they drove down the highway.

We were lucky enough to be invited to a tent. With the tricky weather, I felt pain for those picnicking without cover. Lucky for them, it didn’t rain. And something tells me the flip cup games would have continued even in a downpour. The atmosphere was intriguing. If swine flu was present, the entire senior class at Georgetown University would have been wiped out with one cough. There was enough plaid and pink and sundresses and hats and flip-flops and sunglasses to stock J.Crew and Anthropology for entire summer season.

What culinary treats was I to expect at this Caucasian gala in the Virginia countryside? I thought there would be a lot of ham – and there was. Drinks? I was expecting something chic. Some tents had open bars – with Papio. Humph. Our tent was potluck. I still salivate as I think of the person among the crowd of Supreme Court-trained lawyers who brought the cherry brownies. Delicious. Other than that, I was staring at platters of appetizers that included (and I am for real) melba toast, with a slice of hard-boiled egg, topped with a canned, smoked oyster.

I wasn’t there to eat anyway. Drink and drink I shall. Sam Adams, Merlot, the Champagne of Beers perhaps? I brought mint infused bourbon for mint juleps. As I pulled out my mason jar filled with delicious bourbon and mint leaves, those elderly women, much like the late Queen Mother, gave a seductive glance my way and I swear there were a few with streams of light drool seeping from their pursed lips. Sweet tea this was not.

As the races concluded, blood-alcohol levels steadily increased. Cheap beer in silver and blue cans seemed to be the choice beverage. And as the young men started to stumble and the little ladies began to trip over their feet, I sat back in simple delight. So much money was present that day and, in the end, it turned into one big frat party. I don’t know why this still shocks me – I’ve been to enough of these events to know what’s going to happen. But I’m not immune. And I don’t want to be.

-AEK