Coffee at JJ's - Ch. 4: Lottery Fraud, Part 1
4 If he doesn't have his notebook, he won't accept anyone's payment. We feel it's that kind of unwavering honesty that's keeping us from winning the lottery.
"Bribe somebody!" we yell at him. "Steal!"
"Yeah, kill if you have to!"
But he refuses to cheat despite our most vehement exhortations. We suspect that he lacks the larceny gene with which normal people are born.
Since there are generally between fifteen and twenty guys in the pool, that is how many "quick pick" tickets Greg buys each week. We try to give him our dollar before Friday but don't always succeed, which leads to at least one unsettling experience for Greg.
He tells us, "I was driving somewhere—not here—just after sunset and someone seemed to be following me. In the dark, I couldn't tell who it was. So I made some sharp turns, figuring I'd lose the guy. But nothing worked. Left turns, U‑turns, three right turns in a row—the other car kept up with me. Speed up, slow down; I couldn't shake him."
"So what'd you do?" Frank asks.
"Well, I finally gave up. I pulled to the curb and stopped. The guy got out of his car and came running up to me. Turned out it was Gilbert. 'Sure glad you finally stopped,' he told me. 'I got my dollar for this week's lottery. Here.' He handed me a buck, and took off. I just sat there shaking for a while."
Gilbert, I learn, only shows up once every few weeks at JJ's. Not what you would call a regular. But he likes to contribute to the lottery, so Greg accepts his dollar with good grace.
GREG HAS A PHONE NUMBER in his wallet for almost all the guys, and promises to call each of us in the middle of the night if we ever hit the lottery for any serious money. Those of us who are married make him promise to hang up if our wives answer. No sense in upsetting the poor dears with monetary details.
Lorenzo, one of the regulars, has about a month's worth of beard growing around the edges of his face and upper lip. He brings out a small comb, which he brushes against his face. As he does he tells Greg, "Don't wake me up unless my share is at least a million bucks."
"Hell," Wallace says, "Wake me up even if all I win is a buck."
"If you win a what?" Benny, another regular asks as he leans in eagerly and pretends he hasn't heard.
"A buck," Wallace says with exaggerated clarity. "A buck. Get your mind out of the gutter."
"Why?" Benny replies calmly. "I like it there."
"Maybe I should report you to your parole officer."
"For what?"
"For still wearing leisure suits."
Read Part 2 of Chapter 4 Tomorrow
"Bribe somebody!" we yell at him. "Steal!"
"Yeah, kill if you have to!"
But he refuses to cheat despite our most vehement exhortations. We suspect that he lacks the larceny gene with which normal people are born.
Since there are generally between fifteen and twenty guys in the pool, that is how many "quick pick" tickets Greg buys each week. We try to give him our dollar before Friday but don't always succeed, which leads to at least one unsettling experience for Greg.
He tells us, "I was driving somewhere—not here—just after sunset and someone seemed to be following me. In the dark, I couldn't tell who it was. So I made some sharp turns, figuring I'd lose the guy. But nothing worked. Left turns, U‑turns, three right turns in a row—the other car kept up with me. Speed up, slow down; I couldn't shake him."
"So what'd you do?" Frank asks.
"Well, I finally gave up. I pulled to the curb and stopped. The guy got out of his car and came running up to me. Turned out it was Gilbert. 'Sure glad you finally stopped,' he told me. 'I got my dollar for this week's lottery. Here.' He handed me a buck, and took off. I just sat there shaking for a while."
Gilbert, I learn, only shows up once every few weeks at JJ's. Not what you would call a regular. But he likes to contribute to the lottery, so Greg accepts his dollar with good grace.
GREG HAS A PHONE NUMBER in his wallet for almost all the guys, and promises to call each of us in the middle of the night if we ever hit the lottery for any serious money. Those of us who are married make him promise to hang up if our wives answer. No sense in upsetting the poor dears with monetary details.
Lorenzo, one of the regulars, has about a month's worth of beard growing around the edges of his face and upper lip. He brings out a small comb, which he brushes against his face. As he does he tells Greg, "Don't wake me up unless my share is at least a million bucks."
"Hell," Wallace says, "Wake me up even if all I win is a buck."
"If you win a what?" Benny, another regular asks as he leans in eagerly and pretends he hasn't heard.
"A buck," Wallace says with exaggerated clarity. "A buck. Get your mind out of the gutter."
"Why?" Benny replies calmly. "I like it there."
"Maybe I should report you to your parole officer."
"For what?"
"For still wearing leisure suits."
Read Part 2 of Chapter 4 Tomorrow
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