All bean-flicking aside, I spent an afternoon drinking beer with old guys and betting on horses. I wrote the thing up and sold this resulting essay to the Free Times. You'll have to read it to figure out the jellybean reference.
I spent the proceeds on a pair of high-heeled sandals. Nice.
One conversation nugget that I could not fit into the essay:
"How old are you?" I ask one Old Guy at the track.
"I'm 84," he says.
"Got a girlfriend?" I say.
"Got me 14 of them," says the Old Guy. "How old are you?"
"Hell," he says. "You too old for me. Oldest girlfriend I got is 34."
"How many girlfriends did you say you had again?" I ask.
"Got me 17 of them," says the Old Guy.
"Seventeen, huh?" I say. "How old are they again?"
"None of them one day over 30," he says.
"That's something, old timer," I say. "What's your secret?"
"Viagra," he says. "Now, baby, who you like in the fifth?"