Earlier, Jared wrote about his experience at this year’s Kentucky Derby. Not the craziest time a guy can have, but still an overall solid weekend of debauchery nonetheless. One of our fine readers thought they had a crazier story that could top Jared’s. So he emailed it in.
The Kentucky derby has been a staple of my friends raging for the past two years. It’s a time for us to come together and relive our glory days. As the years have gone on it has become more about being outrageous than enjoying the race. This is my story from the 2015 Kentucky derby
Pre derby planning, crucial.
This includes $600 worth of cocaine (per 3 friends), a handful of painkillers for the morning after, and copious amounts of alcohol.
As you know Oakes occurs the day before derby, and following Oakes many patrons head straight to fourth street to party the night away. Along with these patrons are sometimes the “athletes”.
I’m a 6’7 man who doesn’t shy away from the opportunity to make a scene, especially under the influence. I arrive at a packed bar with my buddies. The Coke for the night is strategically placed in my sock for optimum bathroom bumps. I have consumed a large quantity of alcohol when all of a sudden I feel a brush against my pant leg.
In the middle of ordering my four vodka red bulls for the team I look down and see a herd of horse jockeys.
These little guys are having a blast. They have already finished their Oakes races and they’re trying to turn up. I literally am astounded. I’m standing in a fucking herd of horse jockeys and imagining the possibilities. Next immediate thought, The Lion King.
I proceed to pound two vodka red bulls, shoot a massive smile to my boys who are watching this unfold from a corner table, and grab the little man by the armpits thrusting him into the air and singing the lion king anthem.
His struggling and yells were no match for my determination. I held him like a small child as his jockey buddies threw a fit.
Unfortunately Louisville PD has eyes in the skies the whole weekend and I was quickly taken away. To wrap up the story. Picking up a horse jockey cost me a night in jail, a potential possession with intent to distribute jail sentence, and a sobriety date of 5/5/15.
Let’s break this thing down.
First off, I can respect the move to pick up the jockey like he was Simba in The Lion King. I too have been known to do this, only my experience was with a midget stripper. It’s such a power move. If you ever have the chance to pick up a little person in your life and hold them above your head, do it 100 times out of 100.
The next thing I’d like to address is the whole “$600 of coke and hiding it in your sock” thing. In my seemingly long stint with coke, that equates to about four eight balls (at least in my market). That’s a shit ton for one night. Well done, well done indeed. And being 6’7″ doesn’t help with the whole “being discreet” aspect. No need to keep that in your sock, either. If you’re wearing a blazer, just toss it in the inside pocket of the coat.
Lastly, the thought of all the little jockey buddies running around like angry elves is hysterical. All I’m picturing right now is them pounding their fists on your leg shouting in high pitched voices for you to release their friend. Midgets, man. They are funny people.
It’s a shame that this incident from last year forced you into sobriety. Personally, I think you should suck it up, get a few more eight balls, and try it again next year..
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