Someone just stole $54 million from me. 
I went into a local liquor store to buy a $5 quick-pick lotto ticket and some gum for the wife. Ya know. . . just had a lucky feeling. And you can’t win if you don’t play (and all that stupid stuff we tell ourselves as we do something ridiculous and counter to our better judgement).
Anyways, I get a pack of Orbit gum, Almond M&Ms, and a Hershey’s w/ Almonds (King Size) (hey, I like almonds). . . and then ask for a $5 quick-pick. He prints the ticket and hands it to me. I then get out my debit card and he says:
“Sorry, no credit cards for Lotto.”
“Really? Well, this is a debit card.”
“Doesn’t matter. The Manager saw video of us selling Lotto tickets on credit cards and got upset.” He then gestured to a small hand-printed sight barely legible above the register with about five other equally tiny, barely legible signs.
“Okay. I’ll go see if the wife has any cash.”
So. . . I schlep myself outside, and across the parking lot to the car and get a $5 from the wife (all she had in cash on her). And then head back inside.
So I cheerfully say: “Okay. . . here you go. This is for the Lotto. And I’ll use the card for the other stuff.”
And then he says: “$5 minimum for charges.”
Now, normally, I’m not one to lose my cool. And I’m not proud of doing so here. But I say: “You know what? Forget it.”. . . and then I pick up my $5 off the counter, leaving the Lotto ticket and the candy/gum as well.
As I leave, over my shoulder I say: “Show this to your boss on the video camera.”
Then, as I walk outside, through the glass walls I see the guy rushing to the front of the store, and can vaguely hear him yelling at me. . . I assume with obscenities.
Now, a brighter man would have just wandered off. But I don’t think I have done anything to warrant being yelled at. . . so I put my arms up in a “WTF?” gesture and say back to him (through the glass): “Wow. . . that’s great customer service.”
At which point he comes outside and says: “I heard what you said to me!”
“What did I say!?!”
“I heard what you said!”
“What did you hear?”
“What you said!”
“What. . . did. . . I. . . say?”
“You told me to shut up.”
The guys from the neighboring Ralph’s are watching all this with keen interest.
“No, I didn’t,” I replied. “I said that I hope your boss sees on the video camera an angry customer and some lost business due to his lame policy in the same way he earlier saw someone buying Lotto tickets on a credit card.”
“That’s not what I heard. You told me to shut up.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I don’t make the rules.”
“I know. That’s why the comment was directed towards your boss.”
“Well, man, I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I must have misheard you.”
“It’s cool. I apologize too for losing my temper in the first place.”
We shake hands. I walk back to my car and start telling the story to my wife. . . who has been oblivious to the entire saga as she listened to the radio.
Then I remember. . . my Lotto ticket. What if those were the winning number for $54 million! At moments like this, you get a tremendous sense of the universe conspiring against you. Can you imagine if you had ever won the lottery, and then lost the ticket. . . well, how about you bought the winning ticket. . . but then the clerk kept it and won in your place because you threw a (minor) tantrum over a lame policy and left the store. When you could have just as easily decided to just use the $5 in cash for the ticket and left the candy (which we don’t really need given my rapidly expanding belt line).
So, wanting to smooth things over further with one of our local shopkeeps, and hoping to get that ticket, I went back in and further explained exactly why I said what I said and what I meant by it. . . and then asked if he still had the ticket.
“No. I sold it.”
Now, nobody else has been in the store at this point. To my knowledge.
“I don’t like to void them” he says.
“You sold it? Really?”
“Yeah.”
Now, what do I do? Demand that he confess to stealing my ticket? Demand that he give me my original ticket? How could he have sold it considering nobody else had come in? What are the odds that if someone came in during the two minutes I was explaining the situation to my wife, that they too wanted exactly $5 in quick pick Super Lotto tickets.
So, what do I do? I just buy another $5 Quick Pick. Like a giant pussy. And then, upon getting home, I realize that this still means that my original ticket is out there. Probably in the pocket of that clerk at the liquor store. So, come tomorrow, if there are any reports of a winning ticket being purchased from that store, and it ain’t mine. . . there’s going to be some big trouble going down.
Yes, I realize that the odds of either of our tickets having the winning numbers are astronomical. But it’s moments like this that you can just feel it coming. . . when I read in the paper tomorrow that a local liquor store worker happened to buy a $5 quick pick that won him $54 million. . .
