Loser

I am such a loser when it comes to winning anything.  In fact, if you want to make money on the stock market or in Atlantic City or at the race track, watch what I pick and pick something else.  I guarantee  you'll do better than me.

We have a little game at work we've been playing for about a month.  Ten people are randomly assigned a digit from one to ten.  We donate a dollar a week to a "pool."  We watch the nightly Pick Three lottery and tally up the number of times our digits are part of the winning combo.  When you collect ten of your digits, you win the pool. Then we start over with newly-assigned digits.  Anyway, last "round," by the time the winner got ten of her digits, I still had only one.   This round, there are already several people with 7, 8 or 9 of "their" digits.  I have zero.  The only consolation is that people are now congratulating me for my ability to keep the losing streak going day after day. 

But the losing streak isn't new. It's life-long.  When I was a kid and the Asbury boardwalk was in it's heyday, my parents used to take us there once or twice a summer.  It was a real treat to be handed a roll of quarters to go off and play some arcade games, get dizzy a couple of times on the Himalaya, buy some ice cream.  I remember one night when I was around nine years old, and I was by myself at an arcade - the type with the huge wheel full of numbers and names with the nails dividing each one, and when the arcade-guy spun it, it went "CLACKCLACKCLACKCLACKCLACK" for what seemed like forever until it slowed to "clack  clack  clack    clack        clack           clack                      clack" while you either held your breath if the wheel was getting close to the number you'd put your quarter on, or you had started to walk away if you knew it wasn't close and you weren't going to win.  Anyway, I was alone at this particular arcade, and as the wheel neared the end of its clacking, I started to walk away.  But the arcade guy stopped me in my tracks with "Hey kid! You Won!"  I turned around, puzzled, because even as the wheel came to a complete stop, I could see that it wasn't even near "my" number.  He told me to pick what I wanted, so I pointed at a huge stuffed pink elephant.  He took it down from the shelf and handed it over to me and there I went, down the boardwalk, elephant in my arms, barely able to see where I was going unless I held it to the side a bit and peeked around once every few steps.  Just me and my elephant that I definitely didn't win.  I still can't figure out why the guy did that except maybe to get some free advertising.

Many years later, my daughter was about three or four or five, and Beanie Baby mania had hit the United States.  It was to the point where every new BB issued practically came with a press release.  "Did you hear they came out with a frog?"  or "Do you have The Erin Bear yet?"  It was nuts.  People I formerly thought of as rational just went off the deep end collecting those things.  I never bought one.  And I was proud of that. Until . . .  "The Great Beanie Baby Incident" is how I still refer to it. 

Daughter and I were in a local toy shop. I won't mention it by name because I still refuse to shop there, but it's the only toy store in Red Bank and it's been around a long time.  Anyway, we spotted a Princess Diana "Special Limited Edition" Beanie Baby on the counter.   Di was still alive at the time so this wasn't incredibly bad taste. Just mildly bad. And it didn't resemble her in any way - it was just a purple bear with a little gold crown embossed where its heart would be.   Anyway, my daughter expressed interest in it so I looked more closely at the display.  Turns out the store was having a drawing for the thing - there was a large sign next to it that read: "Win This Princess Di Beanie Baby!"  I figured I could possibly win the thing and still maintain my "Never Bought a Beanie Baby" street cred.  So I put my name and phone number on one half of the two-part 50-50 style ticket and dropped it in the fishbowl next to the purple bear.

About a week later I got a phone call telling me, in these exact words, "You won the Princess Di Beanie Baby!!!!!" And yes, there were five exclamation marks in the woman's voice.  My daughter was very excited when I told her that we'd won, and I promised her I would stop by the store the next day on my way home from work to collect the prize.

When I arrived, I proudly announced to the lady behind the counter that I, THE WINNER, HAD ARRIVED.  She visibly scowled.  Maybe I didn't look The Beanie Baby type? I dunno.  She asked for my ticket.

Me: My what?

Her:  Your ticket. The other half of the one you filled out.

Me: You never told me I needed to save that.

Her:  You need to show me the ticket. How do I know you're the winner?

Me:  Um, I guess maybe because that's my name on the half you're holding?  You want ID?

Her:  No, I want to see the ticket.

Me:  /FUMING and rummaging through my wallet, my purse, my pockets.  Incredibly, I find it and hold it out to her triumphantly./ HERE.

Her: /Pulling out a plastic bag and doing something on the cash register/ That'll be $8.95.

Me:  WHAT? I WON it.

Her:  No, you won a chance to BUY it.  It's eight ninety-five.

Me:  That's ridiculous! The sign said "Win this Princess Di Beanie Baby."  I remember it.

Her:  It's eight ninety-five.  You don't want it I'll sell it to someone else.

I paid it.  I swear I would have turned around and left the stupid purple thing there IF I hadn't already told my daughter about it, and IF I thought she was old enough to grasp the concept of taking a stand  against this type of treatment instead of having a meltdown when I didn't come home with it.

They had me cornered. But in the ten-plus years since then, I still have not returned to that store. Call it Irish Alzheimers.  We eventually forget everything except our grudges.

So that was another example of my luck.  Even when I win, I don't win.  You'd think I'd give up, but no.  I still by lottery tickets fairly often, and also participate in a Mega-Millions pool at work.  Those people in the pool with me obviously don't know that by throwing their lot in with mine, they're doing little more than making a $5 a week donation to the State of NJ. 

They don't stand a chance; if they're standing next to me the lottery lightning bolt will never hit.

PS:  The store is Toy Masters. On White Street.  I changed my mind about mentioning it.  Maybe someone will Google them and read this and they'll refuse to shop there too.  Hrrrmmph.

Comments

[scorpy]

win a chance to buy it. Horse puckey!

I bet it was a trek every Christmas when you had to buy toys for the kids, but wouln't shop there. Though, I suppose, if you're going shopping for Christmas, there are plenty of other toy stores around that you could go to, while also shopping at other-than-toy-stores.

[Lorraine]

Well, Sis, I guess I inherited your share of the "lucky gene". I'd feel bad listing all the stuff I've won over the years, but at least have to mention the most recent - a basket full of Swarovski earrings, necklace and bracelet, and Waterford wine glasses. Very sparkly.
But hey, can any of that really compare to Boing Boing Ding Ding? Wasn't THAT a carnival prize?

[Shamrock]

Well, yes, that WAS a carnival prize. But there again, I didn't win it! Truman Eaton asked Dad if I could go to the fair with him. Dad was being a real meany not letting me, at 12, go alone to a fair with an older kid I'd never even met. But Truman won Boing Boing Ding Ding and brought it back to the cabin for me the next day. That, for everyone (except my sister) who has no idea what we're talking about, is a blog entry for another day.

[Bekah]

Win a chance to BUY IT? That's freakin' ridiculous.

I can't win anything to save my life. Just this past cruise we took Mark and I were going to a jewelry show and everyone was filling out things to win a prize and Mark said, "Fill out the form!" My answer was, "Why bother? I won't win it." But he poo-poo'ed on my negativity and we both filled the forms out. When they did the drawing, Mark won. Of course he did. And then he told me that if I had been a brat and hadn't filled one out, guaranteeing my loss, he wouldn't have won.