Why I don’t Want to Win this Blue-sizzling Babe

A $20 lottery ticket? Quite fair. I can actually afford it. But what I can’t afford though is the chances. Considering the number of people throwing $20 bills in that chanting basket, I am more likely to strike gold at Wall Street’s failing market than at this European belle. The thrill of winning a lottery though lures me thither. And at $20 I could as well be on my way to cruising in this blue horse.

The last time I bought a lottery ticket I was 8. My Uncle Temoteo (Timothy) talked me into it.  After twelve hours of listening and watching the winning numbers get picked out of the gigantic metal container, I lost. I have never bought a lottery ticket again. And certainly not this time.

But let’s say I bought the ticket and won the lottery this time. What would I do with a brandy new Roller won in England and waiting to be driven on the streets of Portland Oregon? First of all, the thing is right-hand drive, and I think they make them Right allover the Old Empire. Secondly, what would a guy working with orphans in Africa be doing in a brandy new sizzling babe? These and many others are the questions that drive me away from the blue- sewed racer.  A few steps further from this baute, I spot a familiar huge green-and-white sign. I grab a Chai Tea Latte plus a bottle of spring water for 4 GBP and still have 17 to spend on luxuries for orphans in Rwanda.

I am a winner-loser at this game. And a disciplined traveler too. Except for the sugar.