Friday July 23, 2004
With a shudder of dread anticipation I realised today that I had forgotten to renew our lottery ticket. Just one line, one draw, twice a week, always the same numbers. And therein lies the rub. When you always use the same numbers you can’t help but feel certain that the day you forget to renew will be precisely when those numbers come up.
Getting a new lottery ticket for the next five weeks was easy. But what about the missing two weeks? Did they? Didn’t they? Oh, Golly.
I dithered and dallied. Should I check, or should I not? I really wanted to put my mind at rest but… So, anyway, working on the principle that a 14 million to one chance of winning is almost the same as no chance at all, I typed the numbers into the online result checking page, pressed ‘check’, and waited for the bad news. Oh, the anticipation…
Ridiculous, isn’t it? When I learned we wouldn’t have won anyway I was actually glad.
No harm done, then, except to the charities that get a slice of the stake money and I’ll drop a quid in the next good cause box I come across to make up the difference there. My vanity and pride was slightly bruised, though, and that serves me right. Fancy getting all worked up about such a sordid little transaction.
But, there you go. I’ve toyed with the idea of dropping the silly thing once and for all. Can’t do it. Just suppose I did it and…
Graham is very much opposed to pulling out. “It’s our only silliness,” he says. “And if you don’t play, you can’t win. Let’s face it, it’s our only chance of ever making a fortune and buying that dream house.”
He’s right, of course. Some things are inescapable. I do feel bad, though, standing in line once every five weeks with my ticket and my wager in my sticky little mit. They tell me you can sign up for automatic renewal and that the lottery company notifies you when you’ve won. Perhaps that’s the best way out of my quandary.
Hey ho. Like many others, I really don’t approve of gambling, not for me, anyway. And like so many others I’m trapped.
“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up,” Graham said. “You never check the results, anyway.”
“Yes I do. I check ’em every couple of months or so, just before the tickets expire.”
“There you are, then.”
“There I am then, where?”
“Oh, I dunno. Put the kettle on, why don’t you?”
“I’ll do that. Putting the kettle on is something I can do.”
“There you are, then.”
I resisted the urge to go round that one again. I’m about as likely to win against “There you are, then” as I am to win the lottery. No chance. It ain’t gonna happen.
Anything else, luv?