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I'm losing my good Puritan work ethic one small step at a time.
I used to watch the Triple Crown races frequently in college, having two horse-obsessed best friends. And, having grown up on a diet of children's books like Misty of Chincoteague, King of the Wind, and classics like Black Beauty, I didn't really have a big problem with that.
But I have to say, the festivities surrounding Australia's Melbourne Cup took me by surprise. I got into work late that day, since I went to meet Mr Wiggins at the airport and his plane landed over a half an hour late. As soon as I walked in, EM the receptionist stopped me and told me I had to chip in $5 to the office pool and randomly pick a horse. (I got Tumeric, #14). Compulsory gambling, eh? These Aussies will completely corrupt me yet.
Mr Wiggins wanted to meet me for lunch and we hopped over to the Pyrmont Fish Market to get some things to make sushi for dinner. Well, we tried to hop over. Pyrmont isn't that far away from my office, but the bus had other ideas, and I got back to work just in time to wander over to the pub with everyone else to watch the race. I lost my $5, played a game of pool while Mr Wiggins chatted with O'Brien (my in for this job-- they went to UNSW together).
Finally, the last vestiges of my American workaholic upbringing kicked in, and I went back across the road to the office around 4:30 to actually maybe get some work done. The office was nearly empty-- everyone else was still at the pub. Mr Wiggins and I went home around six and had our sushi.