Need help identifying short story (1 Viewer)

It's about a guy (not Hank) who goes to the race track, wins a bunch of money on a race and then gets robbed of his winnings by a prostitute. Read it once a l-o-n-g time ago but can't find it anywhere.
 
[...]

Ted began undressing, feeling fat and old and ugly, but he also felt lucky—it had been his best day at the track, in many ways. He draped his clothes over a chair and sat down next to Victoria.
Ted poured a new drink for each of them.
“You know,” he told her, “you’re a class act but I’m a class act too. We each have our own way of showing it. I made it big in the construction business and I’m still making it big with the horses. Not everybody has that instinct.”
Victoria drank half of her Cutty Sark and smiled at him. “Oh, you’re my big fat Buddha!”
Ted drained his drink. “Listen, if you don’t want to do it, we won’t do it. Forget it.”
“Lemme see what Buddha’s got…”

[...]

“Hurry up, Buddha!” he heard her call. “Don’t leave me all alone out here!”
“I won’t be long, baby!” he yelled from under the shower.
He soaped up good, washing it all away.
Then Ted got out, toweled off, then opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom.
The motel room was empty. She was gone.
There was a distance between ordinary objects and between events that was remarkable. All at once, he saw the walls, the rug, the bed, two chairs, the coffee table, the dresser, and the ashtray with their cigarettes.
The distance between these things was immense. Then and now were light years apart.
On an impulse, he ran to the closet and pulled the door open. Nothing but coat hangers.
Then Ted realized that his clothes were gone. His underwear, his shirt, his pants, his car keys and wallet, his cash, his shoes, his stockings, everything.
On another impulse he looked under the bed. Nothing.
Then Ted noticed the bottle of Cutty Sark, half full, standing on the dresser and he walked over, picked it up and poured himself a drink.
And as he did he saw two words scrawled on the dresser mirror in pink lipstick: “GOODBYE BUDDHA!”

[...]


The same story was in a poem called fooling Marie:

poem1982-01-17-fooling_Marie.jpg
 

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