Another Melbourne Cup, another $30 down the drain.
It got me thinking about my (very brief) pre-kid gambling phase (I think it lasted about 3 weeks). We lived in a cute (read: TINY) terrace house in inner-city Sydney back then. Our neighbours were old Kiwis who had their kitchen window right near our bedroom. In those days we used to sleep in (gasp - what's that again?) and it would annoy me no end to be woken at the ungodly hour of 10.30am. Except for one Saturday. I could hear the old bloke on the telephone (swear he didn't need one) and he was saying: "Yep, yep, got it. Flemington, Race 5, Number 7. OK, thanks mate." I was curious enough to stroll down to the TAB and whack $20 on that particular horse. Which of course ROMPED IT IN.
This is possibly the only reason to ever appreciate noisy neighbours.