You Can’t Win if You Don’t Play

The early version of the lottery machine was incredibly dangerous.

The early version of the lottery machine was incredibly dangerous.

I feel left out when people talk about what they’d do if they won the lottery, because I know I’m never going to win (it’s an unavoidable consequence of never playing). This is the part where I point out the odds of winning the lottery and how even if you do win it will ruin your life, but you know all that, so I’ll let you fill in the details. Instead, I’ve taken a moment to catalog exactly how it would ruin my life and, by extension, the lives of many around me.

The first thing I’d do is buy a Peter Pan bus. After I got my bus license—I’d do this legit, as I haven’t gone mad with power yet—I would rev my engine at every stop light, making it very clear—possibly through the use of Eastwood-esque squinty eyes—that I am challenging the vehicle next to me to a race. I would win very few of these races. My only reward would be the satisfaction of knowing that multiple people would tell their friends and the Peter Pan customer service line about the bus that tried to race them down Route 1.

Once I got bored of that, I’d learn the Peter Pan schedule and show up right before the actual bus, intercepting their passengers. The passengers would be delivered swiftly, but safely to their destination. To them, nothing would appear out of the ordinary: a bus showed up and brought them to where they needed to be. However, the driver of the real bus, and by extension the corporate office, would be very confused. The ultimate goal is to convince them that there exists some kind of phantom bus.

For my personal travels, I’d have a different car for each day of the week, 7 early 90s Ford Tempos with aftermarket exhausts. Two of them would have fancy rims for special occasions.

Hell yeah.

Hell yeah.

I would continue to work, but I’d go back into customer service, maybe in a call center. I’d do my job to the best of my ability, but would answer all customer questions honestly and accurately. Example:

“I’m sorry, we’re sold out.”

“What do you mean you’re sold out? How could this happen?”

“It’s a condition that arises when we have nothing left to sell. It happens when everyone else calls in before you. Maybe next time you should call before them.”

“Can I speak with your manager?”

“Probably. Not sure if you’d get along, but maybe you can find some common ground. How do you feel about boating?”

I would do this until they hung up. Then when they called back to complain and someone finally put them through to the manager, I’d maintain my stance throughout the disciplinary process: “All I did was answer the guest’s question and he flew off the handle.”

Produce and direct a 6 hour Ken Burns-esque documentary on which of the Rock of Love girls—if any—were really “there for Bret.”

Pictured: Women not "there for Bret."

Pictured: Women not “there for Bret.”

Become a lobbyist. Push through legislation that requires all honey to come in a bear shaped container. Similarly, all nacho cheese will come in a me-shaped container.

Dress codes would no longer apply to me.

Join the Olympic team as either a gymnast, diver or figure skater. I have no preference in event, only that I can pay off the judges and get a gold medal. In lieu of the national anthem of whatever country takes a massive bribe to let me on their Olympic team, “Wild Child” by W.A.S.P. will be played.

I would purchase a variety of items from late night infomercials. A week later I would buy chunks of late night infomercial time to give 30 minute rebuttals on the quality of said product.

I would purchase the giant flaming Eddie stage prop used by Iron Maiden on their recent Maiden England tour. It would rise from the back of my house each morning as I left.

I'd be a lot more excited about taking out the trash if it went more like this.

I’d be a lot more excited about taking out the trash if it went more like this.

I suppose I’d have to buy a house too.

4 thoughts on “You Can’t Win if You Don’t Play

  1. Jeffery Gainer

    …and then I’d buy the Batmobile. And after that, I’d start shopping for a small private island in the South Pacific. And, of course, reliable electricity and broadband.

  2. Jay Post author

    I legitimately think the list of things he can’t do is shorter than the list of things he can.

  3. Jay Post author

    The parrots on that island would be pretty confused by the sweet ass donuts I was pulling in that Batmobile.

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