I dashed into the gas station chicken store this morning to cash in a lottery ticket. Let the record show that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom got in line like a normal person. No cutting. Stepped in between an old dude at the chicken counter, holding a beverage, waiting for his fowl to be packaged, and a man trying to pay for a five-dollar purchase with a hundred-dollar bill.
Once The Ninety-Five Dollar Man went on his merry way, I moved to the glass countertop and handed over my ticket. "I'd like to cash this in for more tickets, please." That clerk is there often. He knows my routine. Let the record also show that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is a good casher-inner. She has the bar code revealed, and the secret number in the little box, and the many-digit ticket number. Uh huh. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom leaves no vital statistic unscratched when she is doin' her gamblin' bidness.
Imagine my surprise when Chicken Man crept up on me like two-sizes-too-small underwear. Thank the Gummi Mary he was not in the location of two-sizes-too-small underwear. He was at my left elbow, encroaching. I do believe he wanted me to move over to the tiny smidgen of countertop by the door, so he could plop his legs and breasts on the glass top. Not gonna happen, buddy. How would I be able to see the enticing rainbow array of scratchers from the other side of the register?
Much like that time at the casino when a frat rat pulled Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's crank, and she may or may not have let the F-bomb fly, I kind of don't remember exactly how I showed Chicken Man my displeasure. Perhaps I huffed in his direction, and gave him a side glance. In any case, Chicken Man picked up his forearm attached to his hand holding his beverage, which was a mere several centimeters from my left arm on the glass countertop. He walked around behind me, and stopped at the counter section by the door. If I worked there, I would hate that. Like it's not bad enough to take customers one after the other in line without trying to remember who was there first.
What is WRONG with people?
Oh, and in case any inquiring minds want to know...I cashed in a $40 winner, and subsequently won $70. Just sayin'...
3 comments:
If your hordes of followers would each send you a $1, (or whatever lottery tickets cost) would you keep track of which ticket belongs to which follower? And then WE might be able to bask in the shade of your good fortune...
I am currently in possession of three winning tickets totaling $32 Can only be cashed in in Georgia. I am heady with anticipation to get my hands on the $$$$.
If any body tries to cut in front of me, they better watch out!
Sioux,
Ahem...I'm pretty sure sending money and lottery tickets through the mail...cough, cough...is against the law. Hypothetically, of course, Mrs. HM would be able to draw out a rinky-dink spreadsheet to track money and tickets.
I rarely buy the one-dollar tickets because even I don't win on those. My poison is the five-dollar tickets, though lately I've found a three-dollar that I like.
To see the rainbow array of tempting tickets, check out molottery.com and hover over GAMES and pick SCRATCHERS. You can click on a ticket and see it in all its glory, and the payoff, and how many of each prize are left.
You know. People who have time to burn. Like my best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel, on her permanent vacation.
****
Kathy,
You are preachin' to the choir! I think you need a police escort, with sirens, of course, all the way to Georgia.
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