Forget the boring dinner reservation. Take a date to the races.
You’ll have natural conversation starters: “Did you see that jockey’s pants?” “Is that horse sweating too much?” You’ll bond over losing $2 on a Romanian-bred mare. And you’ll kiss at midnight with a hint of manure and victory in the air.
It’s cheaper than a club. It’s warmer than a rooftop. And if you’re lucky? You might win enough to buy the next round of hot toddies.
