One evening several months ago, Dr T was heading to the bar after work. “Hey, wait a second.” I handed him a $5 bill. “Gamble for us, and if you win anything we’ll split it.” My uncle used to do this with his sailor buddies. It would keep Dr T busy and not outside smoking.
“Sounds like a chore I can handle.”
Several hours later I received a text. “Down to $2. Ideas?”
“Shoot the moon!”
The next day when I arrived at work, a pink piece of paper was in my cash drawer. Dr T said, “After I texted you, I put the $2 into the poker machine. I won FOUR LOCH NESS MONSTERS! So I bought a Raffle ticket from Melony.”
“Did she bless it?”
“And how!” Dr T grinned. Melony blesses the lottery tickets she sells by rubbing them every wonderful place before handing them over.
“All righty then. Wouldn’t that be something? Two-hundred-fifty-thousand Loch Ness Monsters… We would have to leave her a tip.”
“If we win, she’ll take more than the tip!”
Dr T and I have borrowed South Park’s monetary system for personal use. How much is a Loch Ness Monster? According to Chef’s dad, “Two dollah fiddy cent.” $7.59? Three nessies and a nipple. We talk money like this in front of Grinder and watch the vein on his forehead grow.
I love how the State of Oregon has parlayed our $5 investment into a million-dollar dream.
For gosh knows how many months, the ticket rode with me everywhere. Last Friday Dr T texted me the winning number.