Once home, I decided I would set aside one of those tickets for Genius next week. I don't normally play the $3 version, but this one was a format he likes, the Diamond Tripler. It has lots of lower-level prizes, but not so many high dollar payouts. It is, after all, only a $3 ticket.
I had numbers 22 and 23 from that roll of tickets. Hm. Which one to give Genius? He's going to turn 21 in December. But not 22 or 23. I figured I'd take the first one, and save the #23 for him. I started scratching. I scratch this kind in columns, not in rows. Midway down the first column, there was a 3X symbol. Well. I'd never seen on of those on this kind of ticket. The directions said you win three times the amount you uncover. I was one symbol into the second column when I stopped.
"Genius loves these tickets. I know it's a winner of some kind. I should really send it to him. But he might be insulted that I sent him a partially-used lottery ticket. Then again, he might be happy because I've sent him a sure winner."
What to do, what to do? Val Thevictorian problems. I've had a dry spell in the win department. Maybe I should keep it and see what's there. I felt like Thomas Hulce as Pinto in the upstairs bedroom at Delta House when his date passed out and the devil and angel on his shoulders were giving conflicting advice. I'd link that scene, but I'm not sure all of you are old enough to hear it.
I set that sure winner aside. Because I'm a giver, darn it! And I want my son to experience the joy of scratching off at least $9, which will be greatly appreciated by him, what with the price of Chinese food only being $6 at the establishment he frequents. I scratched off the #23 ticket instead, and won $3. Since the suspense was killing me, I put that winner in the mail Sunday.
Hopes are high that Genius wins bigger than $9, because Even Steven dealt more cards that afternoon after I dropped that sure winner in the drive-thru box at the dead-mouse-smelling post office. I had waited and waited to leave home, because Hick and The Pony did not return my texts about whether they wanted me to pick up something for their lunch while I was in town. They were busy putting the trusses on the Sword Shack. Finally, Hick replied that they would take Dairy Queen chicken baskets. So I waited in line for those, and headed over to the gas station chicken store for a 44 oz Diet Coke. The school year is fast upon us, you know, so I have to drink soda while the sun shines.
What's the point of making a stop for only a Diet Coke, I say. So I figured I'd get a gas station chicken breast. They do chicken right. As I filled my
SHE TONGED THE LAST CHICKEN BREAST OUT OF THE WARMER!
Well. That was it for me. I stepped around her to pay for my soda. No point in waiting when my meal was gone.I'd have to make lunch at home for myself, after I'd gone to all that trouble to make sure I would not be making lunch.
No good deed (or two) goes unpunished. Do-gooder, selfless Val went without a big win and a boughten lunch. Circumstances of apocalyptic proportions in Val's world.
Even Steven missed the memo that it's better to give than to TAKE FROM VAL!
No good deed goes unpunished. Words to live by.ReplyDelete
Yes. I think it was also the title of an episode of ER.Delete
What kind of filthy animals are you country folk? Licking chicken-for-sale before it has been sold? Putting a TONGUE on some gas station chicken?ReplyDelete
Oh. Did I put a "ue" where it didn't belong?
Hey, Madam, tone it down! We may be tonging chicken, but at least our chickens are unaltered. Take Stephen, down below, who used to eat chicken with no breasts! Eight pieces, and no breasts!Delete
Perhaps your ire would be better-directed to one Ariana Grande, and her donut-tongueing!
I used to buy fried chicken at Albertson's across the street, eight pieces for $5.98. It was really good, only it's all dark meat which is my favorite. Now that Albertson's has closed I don't know what I'll do. Probably live longer.ReplyDelete
That, my friend, is some jacked-up chicken. Chickens don't come in all dark meat! What were they doing with the breasts?Delete
I can't help but picture a dude with a guitar, sitting on the steps of a frat house at a toga party, singing to you: "I gave my friend a chicken, that had no breasts..."
Tonight's Seinfeld re-run was the even-Steven episode. Naturally you came to mind.ReplyDelete
WHAT? How could I miss that? I want to see Elaine throw that $20 out the window! And stop for JujyFruits.Delete
When you get a hankering for something, and someone grabs the last donut, you think awful thoughts. I know! I can only imagine what kind of crime scene in the mind a last grabbed chunk of chicken could create.ReplyDelete
Not-heaven hath no fury like Val Thevictorian chicken-spurned.Delete