The Universe continues to mess with Mrs. HM. We won't even go into all the shenanigans that thwarted her daily routine on Tuesday. That's a story for my not-so-secret blog.
Monday was maddening enough with that spindly old lady chatting away at the checkout of the Gas Station Chicken Store. I was sure glad to get out of there. My plan was to dash inside 10Box to get some tickets out of their machines. I still had to get two for Genius's weekly letter, and I wanted more crosswords.
The left machine worked just fine. No sign of that ticket-tearing problem it had with the crosswords last week. I moved to the right side machine. Got my tickets. The last one was for Genius. It was a $5 red 5X ticket that he'd won his $1000 on. Of course he likes that ticket.
The machine sounded a little different, but my ticket came out. I scooped them all up, and was shuffling them into order before walking out. WAIT A MINUTE! What's THAT?
The red 5X ticket had a tail! It was half of the next ticket! I had the whole ticket that I paid for, plus half of the next one. Well. A half-ticket does me no good. It doesn't have the barcode that tells you if it's a winner. It has a different kind of bar and number code at the top, on the back, that retailers use sometimes if the scratched-off barcode doesn't work.
What to do? I did NOT want to stand around waiting. But I didn't want to mess up the store's lottery records. The lottery is highly-regulated, you know. I certainly don't want them to lose their license to sell scratchers!
I went to the checker who always asks about my tickets. She got a customer right then. So I moved to a newer checker, who had just finished with a customer, and was wiping her conveyor.
"I was just at the lottery machine, and it gave me this ticket that's torn in half. I got what I paid for. But I figured you must need this half to reconcile with the machine. You know, to account for a ticket that can't be sold."
"Oh, yeah. We probably need that. I can see the machine says there was a malfunction."
"Let me just tear this off and leave it with you. Then when a manager comes up, you can give it to her."
"Yes. I'll do that."
I tore it off and handed her the half-ticket. My good deed for the day. Despite the meddling of The Universe, I gave myself a virtual pat on the back.
4 comments:
Good deeds on your part. I think those machines need fixing before they begin tearing all the tickets.
River,
I think they must have somebody new loading the books of tickets into the machine. If it was just ONE of the machines, I'd think it was a mechanical problem. But for both of them to have the same issue, I figure it's human error. It was different kinds of tickets, too. So not something done wrong during manufacturing them.
Good help is hard to find ....
Kathy,
You ain't a-woofin'! Even if it's mechanical help.
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