I don’t get it. A guy comes on the TV screen in the middle of the game hooting and hollering, big “wahoos” coming out of him, dancing around like a rooster that just got its head reattached with Gorilla Glue.
He’s doing a happy dance and, for some unearthly reason, OLG thinks I should be tickled pink that some guy I don’t even know just won the lottery.
I would have sincerely questioned the validity of OLG’s logic with this commercial if they had asked me first. Why is watching some twerp in Timbuktu celebrate winning a million dollars supposed to make me happy or even remotely hopeful that I too will someday win? (For the record, I would definitely do my own happy dance, no doubt.)
Honestly, I swore off gambling the same day I lost all my marbles at an early age. I was devastated. And broke. I couldn’t afford to buy more marbles, so I decided that this was the end of the rocky road to perdition for this marble loser—no more gambling, so I thought.
Unfortunately, after decades of indentured servitude to multiple cheapskate employers, thereby squandering away my best income-generating years, I now find myself in the unenviable financial position commonly referred to as being broke.
I’ve done the unfortunate math — numerous times — and have concluded that I should be able to officially retire by June 2050, if I cut back on bread and water and, mercifully, if Walmart is still employing greeters in the next 27 years.
Even that’s a pipe dream, because I already know my personality is more of the “adieu” than the popular “bonjour” variety.
I’ve always known the day was coming for me to have a backup plan and, as luck has it, I do have a plan. I call it my Retirement Savings Plan (RSP).
You may know it as Lotto Max.
I’ve become a professional, back-to-the-wall gambler, you could say. I know. Hard to believe from someone who once thought that driving into Toronto on Highway 401 during rush hour was too much of a gamble.
Truth be told, though, I knew I had put off that critical money talk for far too long. The jig was up. I needed a new plan despite — and maybe just because — I lost all my marbles long ago.
Okay, I was desperate to make some extra cash.
This from a man who won’t even bet against the Leafs in the playoffs, when everybody knows that’s not even really gambling.
Sadly, I didn’t win squat the first time, the second time, or the umpteenth time. In fact, I still haven’t won as much as a free ticket to date.
I’ve noticed that I’ve also developed an almost homicidal dislike for the phrase, “Non Cadeau,” a dislike so intense that I must often have to battle the urge to vomit on the counter when I hear it. I’ve also noticed that the same urge returns at home when I’m watching hockey and they announce the latest $50-million winner: some geriatric Walmart greeter who loves his job too much to retire just yet. It’s gotten to the point where I’m not sure whether to overdose on Pepto Bismol or Ibuprofen.
On the upside, I notice the Toronto Maple Leafs just beat the Lightning and will play their first Second Round, since sometime around when Mitch Marner was born, against the Florida Panthers who just beat the Bruins —who also happened to have the best seasonal record in NHL history. Gulp.
I have decided that, notwithstanding the fact that I am a long-time Toronto fan, to put all my marbles on the Panthers.
Losing all my marbles again is another story.
This is, after all, part of my Retirement Savings Plan.
I’ll buy a Lotto Max when I feel like gambling.
