The Ticket
by Kurt Kitasaki
The minute I heard the numbers on the news station, I knew. I knew my wife
would kill me because I had misplaced our lottery ticket several days ago.
I heard the announcer read my lucky numbers. The jackpot was a record $240
million.
Then I relaxed for a few seconds, I thought maybe I had more time to
find the ticket. My wife always listened for the numbers on the televisions
in the bar where she worked, but she told me that morning her boss would be
shutting them down to install new ones. So I figured I had at least six to
eight hours in my search.
A minute later I received a call, my wife screamed, "Hello Mr.
Millionaire!" Trembling, I asked how she knew about the numbers.
Apparently my big mouthed sister-in-law who's so lazy she has nothing to do
but stay at home and watch TV heard the numbers, and called her. (She
remembered the numbers I used because all of them were the scores of her
previous IQ tests.)
She said, "I just told my boss what he could do with all those
un-cleaned shot glasses! My sister's picking me up. We'll be over in an
hour!"
After she hung up, I tore apart my apartment. In a few minutes it
looked like a half dozen tornadoes had spent the night in our living room.
I heard the sweat from my face hit the wooden floors.
Where did I place that ticket? I tried to retrace my steps over the
past several days. Ok, I thought after work I would go home, grab a beer,
sit on the couch, turn on the TV set. Actually this was my pattern for the
past ten years.
I had to relax. I opened a can of beer and laid with my legs
outstretched on my
soon-to-be-re-possessed sofa. Maybe the lottery officials would just give
us the money; after all, I've used the same numbers for the past six months.
I mean, I could show them my previous lottery stubs. Surely they would much
rather give the money to us than donate it to some worthless cause
like the state educational fund. What good would that do? Look how much it
educated me.
I picked up my cell-phone to call the lottery claims office. "Listen, I
won the 240-million-dollar jackpot, but there seems to be a slight problem.
I lost the ticket. Would you accept my word that I bought the ticket?" I
heard the employee scream with laughter.
"Miss, this isn't a joke. I'm willing to submit to a lie detector test
if that would help." Seconds later I heard her mumbling off the phone,
then I heard everyone in the office howling with laughter. Her supervisor
then picked up the phone. Still dying with laughter, she said, "Sir, for 240
million anyone in this room could make themselves pass a polygraph." She
hung up.
My wife would be home soon. I could feel my face go pale. There was a
nervous convulsive twitch in my upper cheek. I decided to try something
desperate. I picked up my phone again and called the psychic network to
speak with one of their counselors. Maybe they could figure out where I
placed the ticket.
"Hello," the operator answered.
I yelled, "Give me your
best psychic! I don't care what the cost is!" I gave her my credit card
number.
"Well that would be me."
"Listen I misplaced the 240-million-dollar lottery ticket. You have to
tell me where it is
before my wife comes home." I said.
"Sir if you misplaced a 240-million-dollar lottery ticket, then you also misplaced your brain along with it."
"Listen Miss I can't
believe I'm paying five dollars a minute to speak to you!
"Calm down Sir, I'm a little slow, since I lost my tarot cards. I'm using
my uncle's pinochle deck instead."
"I'm running out of time! You have to do something!"
"Ok, I'll use all my psychic and normal powers to help you. I think I can
solve the problem, but I'll have to charge you more than the basic rate."
"Thank God. How much do you want?"
"Well, about 240-million-dollars."
I felt the blood rush to my face in anger. I came very close to
swearing when I heard the door open. My wife entered the room, with my sister-in-law. She yelled, "Here's my millionaire!"
The psychic, hearing my wife, said, "I'm predicting you'll be dead within
the next hour. Wow this job is really fun. I have to tell my boss I
finally got one right!"
I hung up the phone, my clothes drenched in sweat.
"Ah, listen, about that ticket."
"What is it Mr. Trump?"
I knew she was going to kill me. So I headed towards the window to
jump out the twelve-story building. Right after I lifted the window she
pulled out the ticket from her purse.
"By the way do you think I should make a copy of this?"
"How did that get in your purse?"
My sister-in-law answered, "That was me. I found it on your desk when
I visited a few days ago. I thought it would be safer with her so I put it
in her purse."
I walked over to her, grabbed her by the collar and began dragging her
towards the window before my wife stopped me.
Copyright © Kurt Kitasaki 2005
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