Rock met her at the Hash. She was tall, blonde, breathtakingly cute, perhaps thirty years old, and asked if he would let her take him to the restaurant several Hashers had selected for their post-run gathering, which seemed like a funny question to him. He laughed as he told her that he would indeed let her, though he understood grief from his Hashing friends was on the way.
She was curious about the tabloid Rock held.
"It's a racing form," he explained. "I'm going to the horse races this afternoon."
"Are you kidding me? Is there a racetrack around here?" she said. Rock thought she sounded genuinely astonished, and delighted. "I absolutely love horses."
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