Nurse the Hate: The Shocking Lottery Loss

You can imagine my disbelief this morning when I did not win the Powerball Lottery jackpot of $500 million dollars.  I had felt extremely confident that I had the situation under control with my purchase of five tickets, yet somehow the jackpot slipped right through my fingertips.  It will be an especially difficult day after my actions of the last twelve hours. 

I was so drunk with confidence that after purchasing what I believed to be the winning ticket I told my immediate supervisor at work to “drink a big glass of fuck” or something to that effect.  After shitting on the floor by my workplace cubicle like an angry chimp, I walked out the door while calling to place a rather large deposit on a mink pleasure boat and diamond encrusted kitchen sink on my credit card.  As I drove home I made various phone calls to tell off any and all persons with which I had a grievance, effectively burning the bridges to most of my personal relationships.  I also have some reservations about a call I placed to Victoria’s Secret demanding they deliver seven of their models to a clandestine hotel room in a Las Vegas resort I had made a verbal commitment to purchase only hours earlier.  There is also a man named Manuel at that very hotel suite that will be very upset with me after I ordered delivery of six pounds of a drug so wonderful and rare that it doesn’t even have a name yet.   

While the cold harsh light of morning shines down on my poor decisions, I am filled with regret.  I will walk timidly back to my workplace speaking of a bad reaction to back medication, “putting this regrettable incident behind us and looking ahead to a mutually prosperous future”, and finish with a hand shake, downward cast eyes, and a nod of what I hope is mutual agreement.  I will then make a phone call to my credit card company claiming my credit card was stolen by a Guatemalan street tough and swear that I have been unconscious for the last ten hours shackled to a water tank in a basement stronghold.  I am not concerned about my relationship with the Victoria’s Secret Corporation, though I do have some trepidation about looking over my shoulder for the shadowy Manual over the next few years.  I do remain overall optimistic about picking up the pieces. 

I was foolish to believe I would win.  It is well documented that lottery winners are generally slobs with the brainpower of a typical American Mallard Duck.  Right now whoever won this unfathomable cash haul is probably buying new rims for their 2003 Ford Bronco as opposed to creating tax shelters and securing living quarters with Guantanamo level security.  This is not my problem and I can’t spend another moment even considering the lottery’s reward and its implications for the spinning rim market.  I need to move on.