So You Bought a Ticket on the Lotto

There is a Scots saying, "Be careful O' what you wish for, the Devil might give it to yu."

There once was a man I'll call Ian, who held down a government job in a supervisor's position that required his presence more it required any great supervisory or leadership skills. He had reached the magic milestone of being within five years of an excellent retirement pension. His wife worked and his twin 16 year old girls were nice kids, but should both should have been enrolled in special classes if they were ever to become self-supporting adults.

Ian was the cheapest person you could ever meet. He wouldn't pay 25 cents to see a replay of the U.S. Civil War, with Abe Lincoln and the original cast, in his back yard. He had more angles than a geometry book for diddling "the system". He had managed to buy a rather nice home in a working class neighborhood and owned a camping trailer and a small motorboat. His job shift schedules allowed for a lot of free time over and above his 30 working days leave a year. For his limited ability, he had reached an enviable position that outside of government (and without the Union's help) he could never have made. He was content, until one day his wife and mother in law made a pact with the devil and bought a ticket on the $1,000,000.00 Lotto. I do not know for sure that you have to sell your soul, or pledge some one else's to the Devil to win the Lotto, but I suspect that it is a requirement. Ian's pleasant, if slightly retarded, life was about to enter "Life in the Wrong Lane" with no brakes!

For a big weekly adventure Ian's mother in law and her daughter would buy one shared ticket a week on the Lotto. They talked incessantly about what they would do with their share of the winnings. They once won $50.00 and almost wet their pants in the excitement.

Ian came home one day, after a day shift, and walked into the kitchen to find two white-faced, lip-quivering women seated at the kitchen table with the local Newspaper and their Lottery ticket. They jumped up and started to sob and told Ian that they thought they had won the Lotto. Ian put his lunch bucket down, took the ticket and made a comparison of the ticket numbers to the numbers in the paper. Sure enough, they matched. Ian was convinced that the Newspaper numbers were a misprint. They drove to the Mall. The two ladies sat down on a bench and held hands while Ian had the ticket certified. Sure enough, they had won $1,000,000.00. They were in shock for two days and, had they been sharp, they would have seen the Devil slinking around in the dark corners of the house wanting his dues.

The first thing the Lotto Devil set up was that all the twins' friends wanted them to bring them money. If the girls did not bring a wad of bills to school every day they got beaten up. They quit school. Ian refused to enroll them in a private school for educationally challenged youth, maintaining (Did I mention that he was a bit of a chauvinist?) that women had no need for education. He bought them each a small used car and they got jobs at the local hospital laundry for minimum wage and paid room and board. Within a short time, both became pregnant and it seems the lad (yes, LAD, singular nailed both of them) was only practicing and had headed down the trail. All these little problems could be solved according to Ian's wife if they moved to a better neighborhood. Their, more than adequate, paid for house, was sold at a considerable loss and a new, larger one was purchased in a new development. The main bath (of three) had a Bidet in it that no one knew the purpose of. When they found out no one would use it.

Summer was coming on and they bought a huge, $90,000 motor home for camping, but never took it out of town. Ian drove it to work. His wife had a grey Lincoln and Ian had a new, white Oldsmobile as a spare, besides his two-year-old half-ton truck. Meanwhile, Mother-in-law had banked her half of the winnings and continued living in her little apartment in her same modest life style. One day, on her way to see her daughter, she just dropped dead while getting on the bus. Ian, his wife and two daughters got the estate, which was $150,000 the old gal had saved plus her $500.000.00 half of the million-dollar ticket. The Lotto Devil licked his lips in anticipation! Shortly after the funeral, Ian's wife traded her four-month-old Lincoln in on a new one because the grey one reminded her of the hearse at her Mom's funeral. There went a whack of coin. One day, Ian pulled up along side a friend. Both half juiced, they leered at each other and decided to drag off the corner. The light changed and off they roared, tires just a-smoking. Neck and neck they roared up the block. Out backed a brand new Porsche onto the street! Ian's pal on the outside managed to pull around the Porsche, but Ian had nowhere to go in (YES) his $90,000.00 motor home. With squealing brakes and a Porsche stuck in his grill, he finally came to a stop. The police and the insurance company (not to mention Ian's lawyer) took another whack of coin. The next step was Ballroom Dancing lessons. During their tripping the light fantastic sojourn they bought a huge home Organ, which no one knew how to play, and a $3000.00 Parrot. Everyone got a huge diamond ring (of low quality but high price) and they started to plan a trip to Europe with Ian's chum and wife as their guests and personal tour guides. Ian's wife running away with her Ballroom dance instructor in the new blue Lincoln saved them from this foolish European maneuver.

Next came a battle over who really owned the money. It continued until the Motor home was sold for one third of what they paid for it. Meanwhile, Revenue Canada had become interested in all the financial shuffling and paid a visit to this shattered family. They took a huge bite. The house with the Bidet was divided between Ian and his Ex. Who got the half with the Bidet is not known to me. The Parrot somehow escaped and was last seen heading south with a hawk hot on it's trail. The wife took to the high life in Vancouver with her dancing gigolo. Ian bought a small, very modest house in a rough part of town. He and the girls and their two and a half children (it seems another lad was just practicing) were living his government salary with only one beater car between them.

Meanwhile, in Vancouver the Ex blew all her money and ended up on welfare. Ian married a gal he met in a Bar and it is said that her face would stop a Sundial. At about this time, Ian decided that he needed a rest and faked a back injury at work. While on Long Term Disability he was photographed working on his car in the driveway. He was called in to account for his actions and was offered a choice of early retirement or to be charged with fraud. He chose retirement, but forgot about the clause that his Spouse is entitled to half his Pension. Not the new spouse, but the one in Vancouver. He was living in Red Deer. Now both groups didn't have enough to live on. Remember that Ian was still supporting the twins and their three toddlers. He had had a good government job for 33 years and a reasonable life, but that was before they met that Lotto Devil. Ian took to booze, died inside three months, and was buried in a pauper's grave.

The strange thing was that Ian never bought that Lotto ticket, or any other one for that matter, but the Lotto Devil got the lot of them. Maybe the dance instructor got the best of the deal or maybe the DANCER was really the DEVIL. Who knows? All I know is, if I win the Lotto, I'll burn the ticket. I ain't dancing with no Devil around no Bidet!



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