Raylan
“It was in the Blue Grass Room at Keeneland, the thoroughbred racetrack on the outskirts of Lexington; his boss Mr. Harry Burgoyne telling him, “Go on wait at the bar till I motion you to come out on the floor.”
Meaning they’d be doing one of their Boss and Dumb African routines. Cuba watched Mr. Harry walk out to address tables of horse lovers applauding his winning the three-hundred-thousand-dollar Maker’s Mark Mile not an hour ago.
The girl next to Cuba at the bar, Weezie, her dad one of the ...trainers, finished sucking up her Collins and said, “Doesn’t it piss you off the horse is called Black Boy?”
“They had to call it Black Boy,” Cuba said. “What else you gonna call this stud’s got all the fillies flippin their tails at him.”
The girl went off grinning to tell what he said and Cuba was looking at Layla the Dragon Lady, facing him in her dark glasses and shiny black raincoat a few feet away.
“Excuse me,” Cuba said, “but can you tell me what is the time?”MoreLess
Meaning they’d be doing one of their Boss and Dumb African routines. Cuba watched Mr. Harry walk out to address tables of horse lovers applauding his winning the three-hundred-thousand-dollar Maker’s Mark Mile not an hour ago.
The girl next to Cuba at the bar, Weezie, her dad one of the ...trainers, finished sucking up her Collins and said, “Doesn’t it piss you off the horse is called Black Boy?”
“They had to call it Black Boy,” Cuba said. “What else you gonna call this stud’s got all the fillies flippin their tails at him.”
The girl went off grinning to tell what he said and Cuba was looking at Layla the Dragon Lady, facing him in her dark glasses and shiny black raincoat a few feet away.
“Excuse me,” Cuba said, “but can you tell me what is the time?”MoreLess
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