Who among us can deny the shiny allure of prize money and the day dreams of Lamborghini shaped swimming pools that accompany? None, my friend, not here in ‘Merica. That’s why yesterday I was powerless to resist the siren song of a 2 dollar lottery ticket.

(I feel lucky about this one!)

While it may be referred to as the “idiot tax,” the lotto can be fun every now and then, whether as a way to pass the time waiting for gas station hot dogs to cook or as a method of instilling a deep and crippling gambling addiction in your 9 year old nephew at Christmas. “Remember: the one you didn’t buy was probably a winner,” as my uncle used to say.

So I purchased my baseball themed scratcher and set to work, eventually uncovering 4 different prizes for a total of 10 dollars. Bingo! But why stop there? Ten bucks doesn’t pay the water bill, just like cancelling Big Bird won’t fix the economy. I needed more, so I let it Ride, baby. 10 dollars got me 5 more tickets. What did those 5 tickets get me? 28 dollars, that’s what! I could taste the lobster and truffle milkshakes already. The sweet life was nearly mine, I just needed another round. I pocketed 18 bucks and got 5 more tickets, regretting the entire time that I didn’t switch the numbers and attack poverty with 9 scratchers. Hey, 18 bucks can buy a lot of Skittles at a gas station, my friend, but it won’t bring you happiness.

The first final 5 got me 20 more dollars. Then I did it again. And again. I now had a grand total of 34 dollars from my original 2, plus a dining room table covered with lotto scratch dust. The Redhead felt this was a good time to stop. Sometimes it’s like she doesn’t even know who I am, in that I am a WINNER. I scoffed at her warnings and returned to the same gas station for the 5th time that day, planning to buy some skittles and maybe pick up another ticket or two.

I now have 10 dollars left. Maybe I should buy some more Skittles. They make me happy.