Our first challenge was finding an establishment that sold tickets. It wasn't obvious where to go; it was Sunday night; we were tired from a trip to the Barnes Foundation and its outstanding painting collection; we had just said good-bye to a dear friend visiting from Los Angeles. Finally, a grocery store near the Delaware River was open. I went in and discovered lottery tickets were sold via a rather confusing vending machine. However, before I inserted my dollar, a scruffly bearded man and a couple of friends walked into the store. They asked if anyone spoke Spanish. I knew a few words, as did a somewhat pale, portly man whose reason to be in the store was not obvious. The non-English speaker wanted assistance purchasing a lottery ticket.
Well, no one knew how to smoothly operate the government's ticket dispenser. We fumbled around the electronic buttons until a satisfactory ticket was produced. The Spanish-speaking man, who identified himself as Ecuadoran, grandly suggested he would split the winnings with me and the other pale face. I wasn't taking any chances on his promised millions, so I purchased my own lottery ticket.
I checked the Pennsylvania Lottery's website earlier tonight. To my relief, I didn't win a thing. However, I look at the episode this way: I'm out a dollar, but I gained a good story. I'll take that deal.
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