Lotto
I am a smart person. I understand statistics. But I also know that the most important time to buy a lottery ticket is when the jackpot reaches unprecedented heights and the odds are the lowest in history.
Passing the corner deli on a crisp Friday night, I noticed several people waiting in line at the counter. Immediately I remembered the story on Channel 7 Eyewitness News about the Mega Millions Jackpot surpassing $1 billion, and out of fear that I might miss out on the most important opportunity of my life, I joined the line.
“Just one please.”
(I only buy lottery tickets when I can order them like a slice of cheese at the $1 Pizza place, where it’s so obvious what I’m there for that just a single finger in the air will do.)
I kept the ticket clean and flat as I turned the corner of my block, double checking the terms and conditions and making a mental note that I must not forget to sign the back upon learning of my winnings.
I thought of the new apartment to be bought, the trips to be taken, the boundaries to be set, and the relationships that would inevitably be rendered impossible.
My most ingenious plan was to wait the maximum amount of time permitted before claiming my prize, telling nobody that I held the winning ticket until I could experience what it felt like to move through the world with an invisible billion dollars. (A bestselling book would have soon followed. I would have donated those proceeds to charity, of course.)
That plan was quickly derailed, though, upon entering my apartment and immediately telling my brother that I would be moving out if I was to win.
While I would have been a richer man holding a penny in one hand than a lottery ticket in the other, walking down the street with those tiny butterflies in my stomach and swirling gold clouds in my head, I understood that I had paid for exactly what I wanted.
The lottery is in the fantasy business. It’s theater. It sells people the permission to dream. And for $2, that’s a pretty cheap ticket.