Why I hate the Lottery..

  1. Sparky_D
    I don't know what's worse; Buying a 1$ scratch lottery ticket with your last cash dollar and not winning. Or buying a 1$ scratch ticket with your last cash dollar and winning.... Long story of it, I went to the grocery store to buy some sandwich rolls to make sandwiches out of my last nights leftover peppered beef for lunch. I rarely carry cash anymore, but had a sales transaction over the weekend and after filling the gas tank in my truck, I had $5 left. A couple pieces of really good Provalone and a couple fresh Kaiser rolls later, that $5 became a $1 with a smattering of coins. Like I said, I rarely cary cash, so on my way out the door, I figured "What the heck" and stopped at the automated Lottery machine. The last time I had a $1 in my wallet, it was there for well over 2 months. I completely forgot about it, even when the Tooth Fairy was supposed to make a visit for the grandsons first tooth (ended up costing a drive to the ATM and a cool $5! I used to get quarters...). I toyed with a Mega Millions or straight Pick-6 Lottery ticket, but that lonely bottom row of $1 scratch tickets was calling. After inserting my solitary $1 into the greedy machine, I let myself peruse the lower rack of selections. I selected a "Lucky Gems" ticket because I am hopelessly addicted to the game Bejeweled. The machine graciously spit out my one little ticket. The mechanism sounded like it was saying "Cheapskate", but it could have been the scanners in the checkout line behind me. Anyway, I'm a bit perculiar with my scratch tickets (on those exceptionally rare occasions that I actually BUY one). I never scratch them off at the machine. If I win, I'll be tempted to "invest" the winnings into more tickets. If I loose, I'll be tempted to step a mere 5 feet to the right and visit my friend Mr. ATM. So instead, I drop the ticket into my bag of groceries and head back to the office. Soon after, I'm sitting at my desk, eating my delicious Pepper Steak and Provalone sandwiches casually daydreaming about what I would do with the maximum $1,200 available from that particular game, a perfect example of Schrödinger's cat paradox. The unscratched ticket rests on my monitor stand, both a winning ticket and a waste of $1 at this point. Finishing my last sandwich, I grab the ticket and set it on my desk. With utmost hesitancy, I reach for my P-38 can opener. This tool has become my lucky scratch ticket scratcher ever since a fellow office worker stuffed a scratch ticket into my Christmas Stocking in the copier room (everyone in the office had one, and several people played "Secret Santa" by putting little goodies and treats in them during the 2 weeks leading up to Christmas). I won $4 on that ticket, so my tool of choice MUST be lucky. Nevermind that it's only ever been used to reveal one winning ticket. Because of that, it is, by default, lucky. I slowly start scratching to reveal the numbers. It's a quite simple game, actually. I have to match 3 amounts to win that ammount. If I match 2 amounts and a Jewel symbol, I win double the matched amount. My first number is $50... My second number is $100... My third number is another $50... My palms start to sweat a little. This is looking good. My fourth number is $1... I scratch all the way to the border, hoping to reveal another couple zero's. No dice. My fifth number is another $1... My hope starts to shrivel and the last bits of my last sandwich feel like they want a rematch with my mouth. I start scratching the last number off... Slowly, it reveals itself. A third $1. I won. $1, but at what cost? The actual cost of the ticket, the agony of dreams and wishes unfulfilled, the thought of having to actually go to the customer service desk to claim my winnings ("Wow, you won a whole dollar! Isn't that nice?), the knowlege that if I do cash it in, I'll have another solitary dollar bill resting in my wallet for who knows how long... Sometimes, it's just better not to win... I hate lottery tickets.

    Share This Article