True Story©… The Ticket
Man, it has been a wild couple of weeks here…
Month before last, I bought a lottery ticket and it has been sitting under my keyboard unchecked since the day I took it out of my wallet.
Week before last, I was cleaning my desk of extraneous receipts and old mail items and happened upon it. “Lemme scan this shit” I thought as I opened the lottery app on my phone to do so.
I called in sick for only the third time in 16 years working here. One time Ava was sick and the second time I had been rushed to the hospital FROM MY DESK the previous day.
I have retained a lawyer and an accountant for the tasks of protecting myself and making sure these ladies in my life are taken care of (trusts for the girls, etc…).
Next Friday is my last day employed, like ever. I worked a notice because I actually like my manager and she deserves at least my professionalism.
I have begun arrangements to purchase the land of the home we will be living in, while also beginning the process of selling this one for no more than what we owe.
No, you can’t have the address of the big house if you had to ask.
Smart me being smart, I have refrained from buying all the cars and extraneous shit I will be GUARANTEED to buy once we move into the above-named big house.
My new number will be distributed to a VERY sacred few trusted people. The old one will remain active but I imagine will be mostly ignored because we are not investing in anyone’s hare brained-ass businesses.
I will still be cutting my own damn grass.
Our mothers will soon be receiving their surprise contributions of the winnings.
… our churches too.
“You’re gonna have to talk to my lawyer about that” will replace the word “no” in my vocabulary for most things. I will pay him or her to say no for me in a more palatable wording.
There will not be a “doing it big” party to celebrate this windfall. I have made it 43 years, 9 months and 26 days without being robbed and don’t intend to let now be the time to start.
… yes, you can assume I am armed whenever you see me out somewhere that allows it.
Yes, I will have more doggies at the big house.
Yes, I will make it to Iceland post-haste.
… no you can’t come.
Yes, all my toys amassed over the last 25 years are staying with me and probably getting their own room.
… no, I will not sell my 240SX.
I simply ask that you all give me and my family some space to adjust to
the new life we intend to create off of this blessing. We promised God through the years that we
would make a point of proving that we wouldn’t become degenerate failures if
offered this kind of a windfall and we intend to make good on that.
Thank you for understanding.
All of that is what I would be posting right now if this ticket sitting under my keyboard had won more than four fucking dollars.