Convenience Store Vices

I’ve been known to buy a lottery ticket from time to time. I’m not proud of it, necessarily. It’s one of those things that you keep quiet to yourself. Only in the almost non-existent case of winning would I admit that to most people. But I am a dreamer. And I’d like to win my ticket out of here, so to speak. Life’s not bad, but more often than not, I feel like I’m in a flat spin.

I bought gas this morning. My gas tank door was frozen shit and I had to break the ice to pry it open, but I got it open. The tank was filling up and I looked over into the window at the convenience store. “LOTTERY,” a red-lit sight read. “PLAY HERE.”

And so I did.

I’m always a little bit nervous and a little bit embarrassed when I ask to buy a lottery ticket. Like the guy behind the counter is looking down on me for having my hopes set so high. He sees people come in off the street every day, from ever walk of life who buy lottery ticket after lottery ticket. And nobody wins.

The guy in line behind me asked for a pack of Marlboro Lights.

We’re all throwing our money away on something – gambling, cigarettes, junk food, booze, etc.

And it’s all so Convenient.