Chuck has us writing about Luck... you know how Friday 13th is unlucky? Well, he's thought a good twist to this would be fun. It is - kinda.
You’d think winning a lifetime’s worth of money would be a great thing – right? I could pay off all my credit cards, buy the car and house I’ve always wanted, go on that huge overseas trip which would last years. I could give money here, there and everywhere and do whatever the fuck I wanted.
Well, yeah I guess.
Um, no, not really.
The house and car were a no-brainer. I mean, why in the hell would I live in a complete dump of a neighbourhood and drive a shitty little crap-shooter car when I could have my dream motor at my fingertips – yeah the one I’ve been walking past at the Chrysler dealership in the city for the past six months on the way to work.
And then again, why would I ever go back to work again? I mean, let’s weigh it up: $400,000 per year to live on and do what I want with – tax free on one hand. And then there’s that pokey little fucking cubicle on the fourteenth floor at the insurance company I worked for the past fifteen years where I don’t get to see the daylight unless I stand up and look to my right or to my left. And even then, my supervisor walks around and asks me: ‘Exactly what in the hell are you thinking of doing? Sit down and take that call.’ I’d look down and that phone would have all the lights all lit up with the unending maggots on the other end of the phone asking for their insurance to be changed, cancelled or they would be asking me stupid questions about this or that on their policy and failed to read the book that came in the mail with all their bits.
Oh yeah, I’d really want to go back to a place where I arrive in the dark and go home in the dark. Sounds like a solid plan!
And my win took just me going out shopping one afternoon. I didn’t even need to pick up anything really – it was just dumb, stupid luck that I happen to walk into the newsagents and pick out my Golden Circle card from my wallet and ask for the ‘Set For Life Lottery Game’ for that week. It had been advertised for about a month before and I thought to just get in it like everyone else; and there was only going to be one winner.
The guy printed out the ticket for me (I had preset numbers picked) and swiped my card and then I paid the $60 for the game, pocketed it all and pushed my shopping trolley out to the car went home – not even thinking about it.
I mean, I don’t buy lottery tickets. They’re just not in my budget!
The big night came up and I was working overtime – so I didn’t even seen the numbers get called. So, it took me around a week to find the lottery ticket they were calling out for. The news kept saying: ‘Golden Casket has yet to find the lucky winner of the ‘Set For Life’ winner of their ‘Lucky Little Bastard’ Game; which, if it’s you? Well, you will be a lucky little bastard, won’t you?’
So, I looked through my pockets of all my jackets and slacks and found it in the bottom of my recycling – forgetting that ticket almost cost me! I mean, it cost me $60 to buy and I almost threw it out!
It was almost midnight when I went out to the all-night grocer down the road and he ran it through his machine not once but three times... then he looked up at me, with disbelief written all over his face, picked up the phone and called the after-hours number on the back of the wrinkled ticket.
“Yes, we found him. The lucky bastard. He’s here.” He whispered into the phone looking around the store quickly making sure nobody else was around to hear it, “What? You’re sending a car? Okay.” He hung up the phone and turned to me, handing me that ticket, “Have you got picture I.D on ya?”
“Sure.” I nodded, “Always do.”
“They’re sending a car for ya.”
I took my ticket, turned around and found a limo was outside the door with the door open, “Well, fuck, that was quick.”
And quick indeed did my life change from me working my guts out at a place which didn’t appreciate me one iota to me being a rich bastard with every single asshole after me asking for money for this and money for that... they claimed their invention needed ‘a quick little boost of cash to get off the ground.’
Another guy showed up on my doorstep claiming his ‘daughter is on the brink of death... please I need your help.’ There wasn’t a lie you couldn’t say that I hadn’t heard – and if you told me a new one, well, it wasn’t going to be believed anyway.
I now live a life of seclusion.
A lot of my ‘friends’ aren’t friends anymore. They were always out for money in one way or another and I got to hate them in some way. I can’t have a Facebook account, my phone calls are screened (so if you call me, and I don’t have your phone number already, I’m not talking to ya), and I’ve been married three times – divorced three times just as quickly after finding out they were all gold-diggers.
Now, all I wish for is to be left alone.
If I had the chance again to do this over, I’d have not looked for that fucking ticket! Was I lucky? Are you kidding? No fucking way! I’m not lucky... why would I be lucky to have won that much money for the rest of my days only to have every shithead out there hound me for their own pound of flesh – and I don’t know any of them!
As I sit here and write this, the phone rings again and my machine picks up – again. It’s another person who wants to ask me to back their great dealings – again.
Gotta ask: when in the hell will they leave me alone?