A few days ago my job wasn’t proving to be much fun and I was desperately considering what my alternatives were. Amidst this angst (the word for the day) a good story turned up. Could’ve been a great story, but it is a good story instead.
My day was curdling from bad to worse when one of my colleagues suggested a breath of fresh air. I agreed and I limped out into the sunshine, feeling like a kid escaping school. (An ironic moment for those who know.)
We went to a local auction house and we were looking at the second-hand (probably estate) furniture. My colleague asked me if I thought this coffee table was veneered. The coffee table had a drawer, and so I pulled the drawer out, tilted the table up and looked at the underside of the top. Solid wood alright. And then I spied two lotto tickets stuck in between the top and the frame. Seems the original owner had kept the drawer pretty full, and the tickets had become wedged in the narrow gap.
‘That’ll do me’, I thought and immediately grabbed the tickets and slipped thim into my shirt pocket.
In New Zealand there are hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of unclaimed lotto prizes. People lose tickets, forget them, whatever. Some people even get them stuck in furniture. And very, very occasionally, people find tickets. Some, even from back in 1997. I couldn’t believe my luck.
Ah, what a great story – I took them to a local lotto shop. The young lady peered at them and told me that she couldn’t scan them because they were so old they had no bar code. She had to enter the numbers manually. I was trying to be calm, but I knew what a dynamic change a cash injection would make in my wife and my lives. We could say hello to new future that didn’t involve the 9 – 5 in the same way.
But this is a good story, and not a great story. I do have two book marks from 1997. And a story for my blog. And tug on my leash, from my job…