Friday, 15 July 2011

Winning the Euromillions (and my attempt to write something clever...)

I’m not usually one to play the lottery. I’m usually too fixed upon the thought of “it won’t happen to me, I’m happy with my life as it is”. I also usually (ok, all the time) forget to play the lottery. It just doesn’t bother me. However, whenever the media is going crazy reporting on the hundreds of millions of pound rollovers, I can’t help it but get drawn in on the mental world of playing the lottery.

As the world knows – unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past fortnight – recently, there was a Euromillions rollover of £161 million. Pure mentality! I decided to give it a go. I walked to the shop and put on a lucky dip. A dip that I was hoping to be lucky. I had my life planned out; where I was going to invest in property, who was getting their hands on my money, what charities I was going to help out, and what new clothes I wanted to put into the wardrobes in mentioned properties. The dip wasn’t lucky. But then again, neither was anyone else’s in the rest of Europe... It was another rollover.

So, my days came and passed and the media was buzzing with the news of the Euromillions. A single winning ticket would make you instantly richer than half of Hollywood’s royalty; they’d make a gazillion pounds a year with interest; and they’d be extremely happy.

It came to Euromillions day and my head was preoccupied with more important priorities. I was walking through the city and I glanced down at my watch... 7.25pm. Wait. Is it Euromillions day? What time is the cut off? Can I still play? I whip out my phone and start to Google... I had five minutes left to buy what could be the most important ticket of my life. I run into a newsagent and grab a pen. It had run out! My heart stopped. The Euromillions site on my phone said I had four minutes left. The man in the queue before me handed me a pen as more people hurried into the store to play the game. It seemed like the whole of Birmingham had forgot to put their lucky dip on. I put my numbers down. Three minutes to go. I run over to the counter where there was an old lady having issues with payment... My heart is pounding, my hands are sweating, and my phone is counting down. I get to the front of the queue as more people rush into the store to play tphe game. Two minutes... My ticket is printed just in the nick of time. I relax; I pay and get out the store. As I get out a taxi had just pulled up. My luck was in: it’s not every day I walk out a store a taxi has just pulled up. Surely luck was on my side... Tonight was my night to win my fortune.

I spend all night refreshing my phone waiting for the numbers to be published online.

I didn’t win the jackpot. However, I did win £2.90 with two matching numbers... Erm, great. I made a profit of 90p. Wow.

The next morning I find myself desperately thirsty. I look in my pocket and find my winnings. I felt a sense of achievement. All that hard work and panic the night before seemed like it paid off. I go and get my extra hot grande skinny vanilla latte and sit looking out the Starbucks window, waiting for a friend. Relaxation. Heaven.

So, when you find yourself with five minutes left to win millions of pounds, just think of the happiness £2.90 could bring you the next day in the form of a hot Italian beverage. It’s life’s simple things...

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