On the afternoon of the first Tuesday in November, something bizarre happens in Australia—more bizarre than usual. Instead of skiving off and having a beer, Australians dress up, skive off and have a beer (or wine or champagne or non-alcoholic beverage of choice). Except in Victoria, where they make a whole day of it and have done so since 1877.
The occasion for these revelries is the Melbourne Cup. Think Ascot meets the Grand National, but without the horses.
No wait, sorry, there are horses; I wondered what was on the telly in the corner.
Anyway, normally sensible people bet on the race and think they’re going to win, every office has a sweepstake, and in most places most Australians get dressed up for the event. True to form an email came around last week,
We will have a wee prize for the best dressed lady & to comply with the Uni policy of equality we will also have a wee prize for the best dressed
gentleman.
Well, that sounded like a challenge to me.
So come this afternoon I wandered down to the common room for the drinks and nibbles provided by the department, and was met by a veritable sea of drabness. Hardly a soul had dressed up. I saw two, maybe three hats, but apart from Helen and Dave no one else had bothered. As soon as I walked in two of the admin staff turned to me and said, “You’ve won”.
Dave the scary Irishman, Helen, and me
After the race I chaired a lab meeting (dressed like that), ate birthday cake with the rest of the lab (dressed like that) and then went back to my office to code in perl (dressed like that). Well, someone has to show the bloody convicts what it’s all about.
Oh, I did throw a couple of dollars into the sweepstake, with the avowed intention of donating any winnings. Sadly, it wasn’t to happen.
I can just about distinguish it* in this picture, Richard!
(my alternative caption in case you are thinking of a competition).
this is ‘it’.
For a textil-ey reason unanticipated by me, my footnote asterisk was transformed into a bullet point.
All right then Maxine, let’s turn this into a competition. First prize is a night out with me and the kilt, 2nd prize—etc.
Hey hey…what’s with the ‘colonial’ tag. 😉
Was that your first Melbourne Cup?
Heck no Meagan. This is the third, but it’s the first time I’ve had something funny to say 😉
Now thats a well iron kilt if any I’ve seen 🙂 You all three look lovely. Fun idea that, to be nicely dressed in lab….
Hope you win and can donate! Good luck!!
Iron? ‘Iron’??
What?
You three look like some sort of cheesy cabaret act.
Now there’s a thought.
ironed… you know, without wrinkles?….
I’m going to plead “posting before breakfast” on the whole thing with my post. All the mis-spellings…
Well, that’s what I thought you meant.
That kilt hasn’t been near an iron since it was made, 16 years ago. That’s how proper kilt wool behaves.
ohh… I see… 🙂