“Ma’am, I think you dropped this,” said the voice behind me. I turned around to see the pretty self-checkout attendant holding a lotto ticket. She smiled and held out her hand to give it to me.
I shook my head. “No, it’s not mine. I don’t play the lottery.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “I saw it fall when you walked away from the checkout stand.”
My mind raced as I tried to remember. Lately, my memory has been a little wonky with all the stress and stuff. Maybe I bought it earlier and forgot it. Lord knows I’ve forgotten more important things than that before.
“I guess I did,” I chuckled as I took the card and put it in one of the grocery bags. “Thanks so much; I appreciate your honesty.”
“Glad to help,” she said. “Have a great day, and good luck.”
I shrugged and faked a grin. “I’m not very lucky. The only luck I ever have is no luck at all.”
“Haha, kinda like the old song,” she laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe today is your lucky day.”
“Yes, maybe it is,” I lied. Thanks again.” I exited the store and headed for my parked car, bags in hand. Dark clouds gathered overhead, and winds gusted, signaling a brewing storm.
I got in the driver’s seat and plunked the bags down in the passenger seat. The lottery ticket peeked out the top of a bag, begging for attention. I took it out of the bag and held it in my hand. I tried to conjure up why I bought it — because I never buy such frivolous things. I don’t remember buying it, but I must have. And now I’m curious. What if? Why not?
I scratched one of the little gray circles with my credit card so I wouldn’t mess up my freshly manicured nails, then scratched another. I needed two to match, but knowing my past luck with lotto cards and all other games of chance, my hopes were near zero for anything different this time.
I quickly worked through the card with no matches and held my breath as I came to the last circle. I crossed my fingers, said a prayer, and scratched.
Like I thought, no match; there never is. I looked at the card in disgust, and something struck my eye. I held it closer and realized I read one number wrong. What I thought was $100 was instead, $100k. And there are two of them. I blinked, rubbed my eyes and looked again. That can’t be right, is it? I’m seeing things. Why would it say $100k rather than $100,000? But it does; it’s $100k. I’m not imagining it. One-hundred-freaking-thousand dollars!
Overcome with joy at my sudden turn of luck, I jumped out of my car, waving the winning card in the air, and I let out a whoop loud enough to wake the dead. “I won a hundred thousand dollars!” I shouted, over and over. A few startled people in the parking lot looked my way, at what they surely must have thought was a crazy woman. “Today’s my lucky day! I won 100k!”
The card slipped from my fingers and fell to the ground. As I reached to pick it up, a gust of wind blew it away from me and into the air. “No, no, no!” I jumped to grab it, but the wind carried it over my head, teasing me, swirling out of reach and out of sight into an angry cloud of dust and debris — a dust devil of sorts. I watched helplessly as it disappeared, my newfound fortune and luck with it.
I stood there for a while, watching and waiting and hoping it would come back, but it never did. I finally got in my car and drove home, disappointed with the loss, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t really buy that lottery ticket, anyway. Easy come, easy go, as they say.
I don’t know where the lottery ticket went, or where it landed, but I do know this: whoever eventually finds it will be luckier than me. Because the only luck I ever have is no luck at all.
