Not Feeling Like P. Diddy

I woke up this morning not feeling like P. Diddy. I am not a multimillionaire. Shocking I know.

You see, I have never been a gambler. I mean sure the day I turned 18 I bought several items; a pack of cigarettes, a dirty magazine and a scratch ticket all because I now legally could. It wasn't about what they were; it was that I was now able to get them.

I don't buy scratch tickets or partake in lottery games. I don't get sucked into Keno or even play cards. (This is ironic since I moonlight in a poker room.) Sure I joined in my company football pool, but that is about as rebellious as I have ever gotten.

I've gone to casinos and not even touched a slot machine. I mean sure other times I tried them out, but felt it was pretty much a waste of my time. Like a glorified video game that takes your money. I just wanted to hang out in the cool hot spots they had in there and dance my butt off.

I've played roulette, although it was not my idea. I was sort of middle-man and doing someone else's bidding to keep them farther from the table, since once they were AT the table we were lost there for hours. Funny how there are no clocks or windows in a casino. Time doesn't seem to exist.

None of it ever seemed appealing to me. If I wanted to throw $2 down the drain, I would grab a cup of coffee. Scratch tickets in greeting cards always seemed a ridiculous gift to me and I would rather people have something more tangible.

Maybe it's just me.

However.

Last night was the Mega Millions drawing, which I am SURE most of the country is aware of. All hyped up and on every newscast for a week taunting the Biggest Jackpot Ever!!

And sure I got sucked in, sort of. I had no intentions of buying a ticket. My mother and brother at dinner were going on and on about their numbers and strategies. The Boy had mentioned his ticket(s) being purchased, so I figured what the hell? I mean I had no inkling I would win but figured I would do it anyway.

I walked into the convenience store and I was dumbfounded. I had no idea what I was doing. I stared blankly at the front of the store, looking for I still had no idea what. I finally cast my gaze upon a small rack filled with logo’d slips of paper until I spied the Mega Millions emblazoned on the top of one.

Ok, I was on my way.

So I grabbed them and then stared, lost. It was full of little circles and numbers, like I was readying myself for the SAT all over again. And again, I stared, lost.

I finally mustered up the gumption to mention to the attendant that I had no idea what the hell I was doing and how does this work exactly?

He sort of chuckled at me and then gave me a brief tutorial, his semi-toothless grin making appearances as he mocked my lack of lottery knowledge.

I finally made my decisions. I picked out 3 of my own number combinations, and I would let the magical computer pick the other 3. 6 slips because my son was 6, made sense right? Isn't a large portion of how this stuff works based on weird superstitions and coincidences? Like picking a greyhound because he pooped on the track, or a horse because it’s name was the song you danced to at your wedding? (again these are all theories to me since I am clueless and the only Gambler I am familiar with is that song.)

So I sat and chose my numbers. My birthday, my son's. My parents wedding anniversary, the Boy's and my anniversary. Dates important and connected to all those I love. I figured hey why not, right? I colored those little circles with my not-so-sharp #2 pencil borrowed from the Keno tray and I took a deep breath and handed them over to the clerk.

I had my tickets in hand now, I was on my way!!

I can imagine that much of the country sat laying in wait for the 11 o'clock news. Hearts beating rapidly as those numbers were about to be flashed across TV screens all over.

As I sat watching a movie with the Roomie (yes I have one now!) I got a text message from My Love.

"If you win will you buy me a Harley?"

"A Harley? Yes."

And that set off my mind to thinking. Wow, that actually IS a lot of money. $355 Million. I had never fathomably imagined what it would be like to have that much disposable income.

To be able to buy a house that would fit inside it the biggest house I knew 3 times over. To be able to pay off all my debt, and the debt of those I loved. To be able to have the kids never want for anything. To travel guiltlessly.

And of course, just mentally (and obviously verbally) spouting off all these things, I got chided a little for spending it all as soon as I get it, but in the words of the immortal John Lennon, "They can say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one."

So I woke this morning, not giddy with anticipation, not anxious to find the answers, but curious. I naturally checked the numbers when I got to work.

I was the proud winner of losing the $6 I paid for the tickets. Cest La Vie.