Coffee at JJ's - Ch. 4: Lottery Fraud, Part 5

THE CALIFORNIA LOTTERY is held each Friday evening, so one Saturday morning in September while Wallace, Frank, Ryan and I sit outside JJ's, we watch as a white stretch limousine pulls to the curb right in front of us. It is much too long to make the turn into the parking lot, so Wallace immediately starts shouting excitedly.

"That's our limo! That's our limo!" he screams. "Greg said he'd show up in a limo if we ever hit it big. We've won. We've hit the lottery! We've won!"

I catch Wallace's enthusiasm. "I bet Greg's inside. Watch him step out with a bottle of champagne."

"I wonder how much we won," Wallace says, thinking out loud.

"Naw," Ryan says. "If we had hit the lottery, Greg would be in Mexico by now, having a margarita and laughing at us."

"Your faith in humanity," I tell Ryan, "is touching."

Frank studies the limo. "Here comes the driver. Let's ask him." A short man in a chauffeur's black uniform, including the classic cap, black tie and white shirt, strides toward us.

"Tell us Greg hired you," Wallace says, unable to keep the anticipation out of his voice. "Tell us we won last night's lottery and you're here to pick us up."

But the driver shakes his head. "Sorry, guys. I'm just here for some coffee."

"Really?"

The man shrugs.

Wallace, visibly disappointed, says, "Damn. Damn, damn, damn. I thought for sure...."

He is gloomy for another minute or so, but soon cheers up. "There'll be other lotteries," he says philosophically. "Sooner or later, we'll catch the big one."

"Uh-huh," says Frank in a dead, unenthusiastic voice. "Right."