Coffee at JJ's - Ch. 4: Lottery Fraud, Part 4
VICTOR MAKES ONE of his semi-rare appearances one morning and says hi to everyone as usual before walking into JJ's. We say hi in return. Like me, Victor is still a working man. Unlike me, he owns his own business. Every couple of weeks or so he stops in to buy a boxful of donuts for his employees.
When he comes out with the usual pink box of as-sorted donuts, we expect him to walk straight to his car and drive away. Instead, he sets the box on one of our tables and leaves it there.
"You guys go ahead and enjoy," he says.
We all look at one another. Some of the guys grab a donut and say thanks, others grab a donut and don't say thanks. Two of the guys, Wallace and Greg, don't move at all. They're diabetic. Victor waves goodbye to us and drives off.
A minute or so later, Backup Benny comes by. As he walks toward us, we point to the box on the table, half a dozen donuts still inside it. Greg tells him, "Victor just left those for us. They're free."
Backup Benny says, "Really? How much are they?"
"A buck each," Greg answers with a straight face.
Backup Benny nods. "Oh, okay." He selects one and eats it, but doesn't pay for it.
Wallace looks inside the box. He gets an idea. "Why don't we sell these donuts back to Nancy?"
Everyone agrees this will be a good way to raise a little extra cash, but then Greg complicates things by thinking, always a dangerous thing. He asks, "What'll we do with the money?"
Few events wreak more havoc, or are more destructive to the general welfare of the community, than thinking. No good can come of it, and the process is generally discouraged. But the question has been asked, and must be answered. Frowns appear on several brows. Confusion looms.
Jake suggests we buy more lottery tickets. "Just don't tell Victor about it," he adds.
"No, man," Greg says. "That wouldn't be right. I mean, fair's fair. If we use Victor's money to buy a winning lottery ticket, he should get a share of whatever we win."
—This is what I mean about no good coming from thinking. One man's brain gets put in gear, then another one does it, then another, and pretty soon the contagion spreads like wheat grass at a Jamba Juice convention. Soon the whole congregation has started cogitating. Anarchy ensues.
"Yeah," Ryan says as the thinking virus continues to spread. "But what if we win $200 million?"
This stops everyone for a moment, until Backup Benny says, "How about if we give Victor a box of donuts? —You know. To show our appreciation."
Several arguments are put forth. One camp—the right wing nut job crowd—favors giving Victor the whole amount, since it was his money that paid for the winning ticket. But this clearly is an insane proposal and is quickly shouted down. Another group—the radical left contingent—believes we should give Victor one share; while a third faction—the atheistic nihilists—think we shouldn't tell him anything at all.
"And what about our wives?" Wallace asks. "What do we tell them?"
"Don't tell them nothing," says Greg.
"Yeah," Ryan adds. "It'll be better for all of us if we keep them in the dark. First thing they'll want to do is spend the money on useless things like mortgage payments and electricity bills. Or hairdos, or...."
"...Or going to the Middle East for vacation," Benny says, shuddering.
"Yeah, if you're married, don't tell your wife nothing," Backup Benny says.
"Okay, agreed," Greg says firmly. "But what about Victor?"
After much heated discussion, the general consensus is that when we win the $200 million lottery, the first thing we'll do is give Victor two boxes of donuts.
...Fair's fair.
When he comes out with the usual pink box of as-sorted donuts, we expect him to walk straight to his car and drive away. Instead, he sets the box on one of our tables and leaves it there.
"You guys go ahead and enjoy," he says.
We all look at one another. Some of the guys grab a donut and say thanks, others grab a donut and don't say thanks. Two of the guys, Wallace and Greg, don't move at all. They're diabetic. Victor waves goodbye to us and drives off.
A minute or so later, Backup Benny comes by. As he walks toward us, we point to the box on the table, half a dozen donuts still inside it. Greg tells him, "Victor just left those for us. They're free."
Backup Benny says, "Really? How much are they?"
"A buck each," Greg answers with a straight face.
Backup Benny nods. "Oh, okay." He selects one and eats it, but doesn't pay for it.
Wallace looks inside the box. He gets an idea. "Why don't we sell these donuts back to Nancy?"
Everyone agrees this will be a good way to raise a little extra cash, but then Greg complicates things by thinking, always a dangerous thing. He asks, "What'll we do with the money?"
Few events wreak more havoc, or are more destructive to the general welfare of the community, than thinking. No good can come of it, and the process is generally discouraged. But the question has been asked, and must be answered. Frowns appear on several brows. Confusion looms.
Jake suggests we buy more lottery tickets. "Just don't tell Victor about it," he adds.
"No, man," Greg says. "That wouldn't be right. I mean, fair's fair. If we use Victor's money to buy a winning lottery ticket, he should get a share of whatever we win."
—This is what I mean about no good coming from thinking. One man's brain gets put in gear, then another one does it, then another, and pretty soon the contagion spreads like wheat grass at a Jamba Juice convention. Soon the whole congregation has started cogitating. Anarchy ensues.
"Yeah," Ryan says as the thinking virus continues to spread. "But what if we win $200 million?"
This stops everyone for a moment, until Backup Benny says, "How about if we give Victor a box of donuts? —You know. To show our appreciation."
Several arguments are put forth. One camp—the right wing nut job crowd—favors giving Victor the whole amount, since it was his money that paid for the winning ticket. But this clearly is an insane proposal and is quickly shouted down. Another group—the radical left contingent—believes we should give Victor one share; while a third faction—the atheistic nihilists—think we shouldn't tell him anything at all.
"And what about our wives?" Wallace asks. "What do we tell them?"
"Don't tell them nothing," says Greg.
"Yeah," Ryan adds. "It'll be better for all of us if we keep them in the dark. First thing they'll want to do is spend the money on useless things like mortgage payments and electricity bills. Or hairdos, or...."
"...Or going to the Middle East for vacation," Benny says, shuddering.
"Yeah, if you're married, don't tell your wife nothing," Backup Benny says.
"Okay, agreed," Greg says firmly. "But what about Victor?"
After much heated discussion, the general consensus is that when we win the $200 million lottery, the first thing we'll do is give Victor two boxes of donuts.
...Fair's fair.
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