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.
enjoy
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.
Right?
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!
Luck! Ha!
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?
