A Winning Lottery Ticket for Christmas

I gave my wife the gift of love this Christmas, along with a winning scratch ticket.

Big spender that I am, my stocking stuffer included a stack of lottery tickets. The love is always expected. That’s automatic when you’ve been married 50 years. A winning ticket, that’s an added bonus.lottery_tix

Okay, so it wasn’t for a million dollars. But the way our luck has been running on these games of chance, any amount is better than nothing at all.

It was one of these $100,000 payout games. You can win up to 10 times the amount on a single ticket. My investment was a mere $2. Twelve tickets cost me $24 and got her hopes soaring a dozen times.

Four tickets into the fray, she hit a $4 winner. I wouldn’t exactly call this a jackpot but it did invite a smile. The best was saved for last.

As she scratched away, out came one winner, then another, followed by eight more. Yes, 10 winners on a single card, making it a $40 prize.

Now, I am not one who sits behind the wheel of my car furiously scratching tickets. You know who I mean. We see them all the time wallowing in their own misery after spending some big bucks on these games. They don’t know enough to stop.

I will pursue a very occasional game of chance, just for the sake of it, and never hit any potential gain from it. Matter of fact, it’s been an exercise in futility.

One day I was standing in line at a convenience store when struck by an urge. I was planning to buy a $5 lottery ticket when I discovered a missing item on my shopping list.

I left the line and let the woman behind me take my place. She stepped to the counter, bought a ticket, scratched it right there off to one side, and let out a scream that could be heard all the way across the globe.

Honest to goodness, she won the $1 million that would have been mine, had I not left the line. I croaked on the spot. I would have preferred losing 10 grand at Foxwoods than having to face this crisis.

“That would have been my ticket,” I told the woman, thinking she’d give me a cut.

“I thank you. My family thanks you,” she exclaimed.

Had I been a drinking man, I may have found the nearest watering hole and drowned my sorrows. It isn’t every day you get to lose a million dollars.

To be honest about it, luck and I are passing strangers in the night. I never won a thing in my life except for a stuffed animal at a beach concession. And that I gave to a child standing by.

I’ve entered raffles and contests galore only to come up empty. One time I put my cat’s name on a ticket and it wound up being pulled. My 12-year-old Angora was the recipient of a small oriental rug, which brought him comfort in his advanced age.

It’s a good thing I’m not gullible. Otherwise, I would claim my Mercedes or a $40,000 cash equivalent and head out to a Caribbean island on an all-expense-paid cruise to claim my prize. Telemarketers love to shower me with prizes I’ve supposedly won.

I’m still waiting for the Publishers Clearing House to make good on a $2 million prize they said I won a year ago. Winning can sometimes become a curse. I still want to be known as “same old Tom” and not someone with a rich and famous lifestyle.

Same with my wife. We’re fine just being country bumpkins. I don’t want benevolent groups seeking me out for donations and have money to burn.

Rich are those who have many friends and a caring family, but even that comes at a cost. You must be somewhat endowed to accommodate them all at birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays. For that reason, a winning lottery ticket would be convenient.

As life treats me with Kindles, I find myself working harder to meet our budgetary needs, and that gives me an incentive to become frugal. Life without incentives can be dull and unfulfilling.

I told you about my wife’s winning ticket, meager as it seems. What I didn’t tell you was the get-away overnight I booked at this new casino in Plainville. Neither one of us has been there and decided to give it a whirl.

Included in her card was something extra to blow on the slots. If either one of us makes a hit and becomes affluent, don’t expect a call or another column. Let’s just leave well enough alone.

Tom Vartabedian

Tom Vartabedian

Tom Vartabedian is a retired journalist with the Haverhill Gazette, where he spent 40 years as an award-winning writer and photographer. He has volunteered his services for the past 46 years as a columnist and correspondent with the Armenian Weekly, where his pet project was the publication of a special issue of the AYF Olympics each September.
Tom Vartabedian

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