I indulge myself with a Lotto ticket every week, shared with my daughter-she gets the Saturday ticket and I get the Wednesday one. I check the results on line but don't throw away the tickets. Then once every few months I take a fistful of old ones to the scanner in the Mall.
There is nothing so shattering to the ego as to hear a machine say to you over and over "You're a loser, You're a loser." Well maybe it doesn't exactly say that. It says "You are not a winner" which amounts to the same thing. By the time I get home I need a bowl of buttered popcorn, a large bar of chocolate and a half bottle of red to restore my self-image and my usually sunny good nature.
Then I start to think Maybe the machine has a point. After all if I took the money I spend each week on the lottery, times fifty-two, times a few years what would I have? Considerable more than I do now, I'm certain.
Maybe I should stop buying lottery tickets. But not this week. I just read my horoscope and it gave me my lucky numbers. I have a really good feeling about this one. Next week. Next week, I'll quit.