Just Another Day at the Office
Upon awakening was a blurred vision of orange on the
floor. It took him about ten seconds for the sight to clear
into a familiar dull Caltrans slicker. Now Elray remembered
who he was. That jacket, which he got during a brief
construction stint, was as much a part of Elray as his soul.
He wore the thin plastic in the dead of winter as well as in
the heat of summer. He loved the fuzzy pockets which seemed
to be sewn specifically to his measurements. The only time
he took it off was for sleeping which was why he lay staring
at the crumpled ball now.
Elray turned on his other side now, banging his head on
a pungent Cutty Sark bottle. Uttering an explicative, he
shoved the receptacle off the bed and looked out the window.
He never closed the shades because light did not affect his
sleep. From the position of the sun in the sky, Elray could
tell it was about ten AM. It never ceased to amaze him how
accurate this method of timekeeping was and he felt no need
for a clock in his room. Now to see which day in this
endless cycle of weeks it was, Elray had to stretch his
aching back forward in bed to see the date on the sprawled
out Racing Form, which he was always able to get at 5:00 pm
the day before. Ah, Monday. That meant tomorrow and the
next he would have off. His mouth salivated at the thought
of his weekly trip to Sizzler's $6.99 steak and all-you-can-
eat shrimp being only one day away. It was nice to eat real
food once a week but Elray really didn't mind the other days
at all. Booze and cornuts was enough to get through the
week. And his Sizzler runs lasted a couple of days because
he always asked for a doggie bag for the steak immediately
(the steak is not all you can eat, you see) to save room for
more shrimp. That, plus the makeshift pouch Elray had sewn
inside his faithful jacket that could procure about 43
shrimp, allowed him to eat until he couldn't bear to any
longer while obtaining provisions for the days ahead.
As Elray got out of bed, his feet crushed some plastic
cornut wrappers. His place was a mess, but he hardly noticed
it as his eyes were still half-closed. His work attire was
conveniently already on, so he just had to stumble to the
sink and stick his head under the running faucet, thus waking
him up and allowing him to comb his hair all in one step.
With Elray's $30 a week hotel room not having an unshattered
mirror, he went over to the old Sony Trinitron and was able
to comb his greasy hair in the reflection. Getting his
wrinkled jacket on, Elray left the building to start his day.
Walking to work, Elray reflected on the same thing he
did every day for the past five years-- His remarkably
perfect arrangement. His job selling the Daily Racing Form
at Golden Gate Fields suited him to a T. Not only did he
get free copies of the form and free admission to the track,
he was still able to collect welfare as he was paid in cash--
$21 (tax-free) a day for three hours work. Elray continued
his jaunt, heading down the lengthy connecting road along the
ocean that linked the cheap parking with the entrance gates.
The intermingling smells of horse manure and rotten fish
entered his nostrils, disrupting his cheerful thoughts, and
suddenly depressing him. Damn, that really smells nasty.
But this rare bout of depression lasted only a few seconds as
Elray passed a shuttle stop and caught a whiff of stale
urine. The scent prompted Elray to consider himself lucky as
èÑåÑ had a private, albeit clogged, toilet to use. Elray
skipped the rest of the way to the gates of the track, light
as air.
Elray arrived at his station at 10:30 A.M., an hour and
forty-five minutes before the first post. This was necessary
to cater to the "dailies" who came to the track every day and
liked to study the past performances extensively. He stepped
up on the platform behind which lay 300 racing forms, priced
at $3.10 including sales tax. While business was slow, Elray
started grouping his change into 90 cent batches to
facilitate those who had only bills. All this because
California had to be the only damn state in the nation to tax
newspapers. It pissed Elray off. Then he remembered two
things. First, that it was the state that was enabling him
to lead this luxurious life and, second, that the Racing Form
guys kept all the tax money so in effect, the sales tax
helped Elray command a higher salary and get better benefits
from the state. Life was wonderful once you really thought
about things.
At 1:30, Elray closed up the stand and took the unsold
copies and money to the main Form distribution point on the
mezzanine level. The guy there gave him 21 dollars out of
the till and dismissed Elray ungraciously. Now Elray had
some entertainment money. There were still six races left so
he could bet five dollars a race and hopefully win some cash.
He sat down with the other spectators and started to study
his copy of the Form. He saw two teenagers, sitting below
him arguing about whether to wheel an exacta or not. Fools.
The thought entered his mind to advise the youths as he would
have done at another time, but he was too weary to care after
a hard day of work and decided to let them squander whatever
Mom had given them. What were they doing out of school,
anyways? Back to business. There were ten horses in this
race, so Elray had a lot of work to do. He looked up at the
tote board and saw a large percentage of the money bet on the
"3" horse. He looked at this horse's past performances and
saw that the horse had placed well in three consecutive grade
III races. This was the obvious sure bet to win but the
payoff would be worth barely the price of a small bag of
cornuts, and not even Barbecue flavor at that. Elray craved
the exacta. He needed the second place horse but there was
only 3 minutes until posttime. So, without sufficient time
to scientifically pick the second horse, Elray knew he would
have to invoke his personal "numerical order" theory. He'd
been at many tracks around the country and it never ceased to
amaze him how often the top two finishers of a race were in
order such as 5-4 or 1-2. Elray wasn't sure why this
happened, some mathematical crap no doubt, so without further
consultation of the Racing Form, he went to the betting
window and got a $5 3-2 exacta and a 3-4 exacta, both boxed.
He always boxed. Elray had seen once-great men fall apart by
failing to box. This being done, all that was left was his
customary trip to the bathroom. He felt no need to watch the
race. He noticed that lately, the excitement he'd use to
feel watching the horses sprint down the stretch had
disappeared and now all he cared about was the result. He
took his time taking care of business and washing his hands
and face carefully. He had to take full advantage of the
soap as he was out of it at home. All they had here was that
crappy powder soap they used to use in his school days, but
it was better that none. When he came out, Elray looked up
at the tote board. The finish was 2-4-5; 3 had come in
fourth. He looked down, his eyes fixated on the near
infinite scraps of losing tickets ripped to shreds on the
ground. Briefly, there was anguish and clenching his fists,
his overgrown fingernails nearly punctured the skin. If only
he hadn't been so cheap and splurged for the baseball box of
2-3-4, he would be getting $50.50! Maybe a corollary was
need for his theory. With this, apathy quickly returned.
This scenario had occurred to him many times in his life and
he'd learn to accept it. Regrets are not healthy. Elray no
longer felt in the mood to study the numerous bits of data
required to pick the next winning horses. The mob was
running it, so what good did it do anyway? He found a much
better bet at the Jockey Club with a shot glass.
After the last race, Elray left with the spectators and
staggered towards his residence. On his way out the gate he
saw a family leaving with two little kids about 4 years old.
The kids were fighting and screaming about some imaginary
stuffed animal and whose he was. "Damn kids", thought Elray,
"Thank God those brats aren't around to bug me." That thought
gave Elray the strength to make it home. That and Sizzler.