Okay writers, does this happen to you?
A few days ago I had to get gas, and milk, and a Lotto ticket. I needed the first two and hoped the third was a winner. Ha! Anyway, I got these items at our local Stewarts convenient store. As it happens this particular store still has a pay phone on the wall. After I paid for the gas, milk and winning Lotto ticket, as I headed for the door, it rang.
In that second, and for the next twenty, all kinds of scenarios popped into my head. Was someone’s lover supposed to be standing near that phone, anxiously waiting and heart pounding, to learn whether or not she was free for the weekend? And would her husband, Brutus, remain clueless? Or maybe an FBI agent lurked at the back of the store, by the ice cream, and would casually stroll over to pick up the phone on the third ring. He'd just listen and then nod at me, "M'am," ducking his head as he sped out the door to jump into a big black car. I'd freeze and clutch my chest hoping like crazy this brave man would survive the day. And then for some reason Lois Lane and Superman came to mind even though no phone booth was involved.
I laughed at myself as I got into the car and thought of a similar experience from the last time I’d been in that store about ten days before. I needed milk that day, too. And when I asked the young female clerk for a Lotto ticket, she asked me what kind. Since I’m always boggled at the array of games never mind the rolls of scratch offs available, I said, “I’ll take a winning ticket,” and smiled. She did, too.
Then a whole discussion ensued about winning the lottery. I said I’d be happy to win just a million. The clerk said a thousand would be nice. And then the guy who had just purchased some scratch offs and was working away at one of them, piped up. “I’m happy I just won three dollars!” That’s when the clerk remembered the guy in Kinderhook who’d won a million dollars the week before.
This launched a whole raft of possibilities not only for spending my pot of gold, but the stories that would result because of it. Like - I'd call the guy in Kinderhook and seek his advice. He’d turn out to be ninety years old and very ill. Because we had this Lotto link he’d bequeath the bulk of his fortune to me if I’d make a trip to Russia to find his long lost niece, Granola. He only had six months to live so I’d better step lively. Oh, and his handsome son, Gregor, would be going to Russia with me. Bonus!
Yeah, you writers know what I’m talking about. One ring from a telephone on the wall, a Lotto ticket, a guy named Gregor, and a little free time is all we need to live the good life.
Don’t ya just love it?
P.S. I rarely buy Lotto tickets, but I did have two numbers on that first one. You need three to win a dollar. Sigh.
Image: David Castillo Dominici Free Digital Photos