A Choice of Lotteries – Part 1
Written by John Ink2Quill
www.ink2quill.com

It was an early Tuesday morning like most. I rolled out of bed and rubbed sleep from my eyes, like I did most mornings and my house Gizmo chirped and wished me a good morning like it did most mornings. The sounds of percolating water from the coffee Gizmo in my kitchen down the hall soon followed the chirps and made getting out of bed so much easier.

My bedroom blinds parted open and flooded my room with early morning sunlight. I have made many futile attempts to keep my blinds closed in the morning but apparently the Gizmo algorithms are convinced this would lead to tardiness at work. I tried everyday anyway because resistance is never futile. I walked over to my blinds and pressed the button for them to close but to no avail.

I cleared my throat and scratched my scalp. I had gone through this ritual before and it usually began with a deep breath to stay calm.

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“Close the blinds.” I said.

Gizmo chirped and cool air blew from my bedroom vents. That would be its answer, a gust of cool, filtered air. It might as well have been a slap in the face.

I crossed my arms and took another deep breath, held it in for a long second and exhaled. I did not even get a verbal answer this time. Gizmo decided it would not have this conversation again. I was tired of all the Gizmos the way you get tired of a lock that does not take its key or a car that does not start when you are in a hurry. I imagined that if Gizmo did decide to say something that something probably would be an end to our conversation with a “You are welcome, Nalime.” because that is just how sharp and scathing its wit was.

I sucked my teeth at the petty futility of my situation. “Gizmo! Close the blinds!” I said walking out the open door of my bedroom toward the smell of coffee steam.

Thank goodness there was no shower booth in my bedroom like in those cheap hotels in the movies. I would not want to be doused with water in my bedroom, much less cold water at that. Thank you very much.

“I thought I had 90% autonomy with this Gizmo model, in this building. That means it should do what I say 90% of the time.” I said under my breath as I reached my kitchen and living room area which were separated by an island with stools on the living room side.

They told me when I signed the housing contract that I had 90% autonomy with my apartment. They told me everybody in my building had over the 80% autonomy that all the best buildings boasted to have. So, then what happened? Could they have been a touch deceptive? Naaaah. They probably changed the definition of autonomy in the law codes and probably the dictionaries too. Such a task could be done by an internet gizmo in the blink of an eye. And it is all done for our own good. Always for our own good. Where would we all be without all the Gizmos of the world dictating our lives for us?

My living room was as well lit by the morning sunlight as my bedroom was through no fault of my own and contesting it was just as futile a task as it was in my bedroom. I sipped my coffee with one hand and I rubbed my eyes with the other staring at the digital image of a familiar face in front of me. On the wall screen in front of me was a man dressed in a bright green suit and with skin so pale and smooth it looked more like plastic than human skin. Such were the powers of modern technology to turn the natural into the artificial and call it beauty. This man’s long, straight hair was too perfectly coifed and made me think that maybe his hair was a cap he put on for work and took off at the end of his workday, the way astronauts wore their helmets in space and miners wore their helmets when they worked underground. None of them slept with their helmets on last I checked. Or did they? This weather forecaster was probably the only one.

I sipped my coffee and watched the weather forecaster.

“Good morning, everybody. This is Roy Reather your daily weather forecaster. I hope you have your coffee, tea or veggie water this fine morning because we are in for a beautiful day of blue skies, sunshine and crisp, cool air as the humidity from last week’s heat wave has subsided and left us with this beautiful weather. So, make sure you get out there and enjoy the weather this week. The smog blimps will be out cleaning our air and giving tours for those that want to see our beautiful city from above. Enjoy this weather for however long it lasts because our Astro-weather forecasters tell us that another solar flare is heading our way and that means more humidity folks.”  He said. His shoulders dropped as he said the word humidity and his mouth slid to the side of his face after he spoke in his characteristic asymmetric smile.

I looked over at my tablet on the coffee table and resisted the urge to open my email and take a second look at the good news I got yesterday. Better news than Weather forecaster Roy Reather or any other news flunky could ever give me. This was life changing good news. Instead I got dressed in a hurry and left my apartment for work.

My commute to work was usual. Leaving my building I recognized so many of the faces on my block leaving their buildings in a rush the way I did most mornings. No matter how early I left home getting to the job was always a rushed venture for some reason.

I watched as one cool breeze after another blew brown leaves and flattened papers in the air. They hung in the air like seagulls over a trolley boat and then floated to the ground like the snowflakes I saw in the movies. The street cleaners who operated the machines were on strike for more working hours again. Today the walk to the subway would be a pleasant and sweat free one. I seriously considered taking the long walk to work instead of the subway to enjoy this weather. More people bustled back and forth on the streets than usual. We all wanted to savor the good weather whenever we got it, the way you enjoy a long weekend when it comes.  

I approached my subway stop but I did not descend the stairs. Instead I turned south and decided to pick up a coffee from a place with, hands down, the best coffee, at least better coffee than anything my apartment Gizmo could whip up. I came upon A crowd of people standing in front of a digital market store staring at the window. I saw a woman pointing at something in the window, and everybody looked frantically down at their tablets and watches. One person after another pointed at the window and it was then I realized what drew their attention.

“They’re checking the lotteries.” A familiar voice said from behind me.

I turned around and saw my downstairs neighbor Betty. She was a stocky woman who was always wrapped in many layers of clothes no matter the weather. She was the only person I knew who still wore clothes that were out of fashion like tweed suits and gloves even on some days. Where she bought her clothes was a mystery for Sir Sherlock Holmes himself because nowadays you only saw her fashion in old movies.

I feigned ignorance. “Oh. Is that what it is?” I said.

She nodded.

“I figured so much.” I added.

“Yes. DigiDeli now puts the results of the major lotteries in the window. They do that with all their stores because of all the new lotteries there are now.” She said while she rubbed her gloveless hands as if to keep them warm.

“The lotteries are now in the window like at the betting tracks. Of course. What else could pull such big crowds on such a nice day at this time of day?” I said.

“I might as well check my results. Come on share the experience with me but just make sure that if I win you won’t tell anybody?” She said coughing a laugh.

I pulled on my shirt from the habit of being sweaty by this time as if I needed to cool down when I did not. “That sounds like a good idea.” I said.

We pushed through the crowd of people with their heads down and eyes glued to their tablets to get closer to the window. The DigiDeli posted only the lotteries with the largest winnings and most participants. There was no space for the smaller ones, and I am sure far less people cared about those smaller lotteries.

“Which lotteries do you play?” Betty asked pulling a small tablet from the large pockets of her tweed jacket to check her tickets.

“I play the travel and migration lotteries every now and again but not so much the money or fame ones.” I said scanning the window as I spoke.

Betty’s eyes unglued from her tablet and her head slowly turned to look at me. “Really? You don’t want to be immensely wealthy or win mansion life for years?” She said.

My eyebrows arched involuntarily, and I shrugged my shoulders. “I never win anything anyway.” I said.

It was then that I noticed the lottery that sent me the email informing me that I won. The email I wanted to read over and over to convince myself that it was real. The letters “WINR” flashed in green with the number of winners next to it. I smiled at the thought that I was 1 of only 12 people who had won.

Betty read my smile and turned around to see what I had just looked at. Somehow she knew exactly what I looked at. “Ok fibber. Which one did you win?” She said folding her arms in front of her chest. I expected her to tap her foot as she often did. But she did not.

I tried to change the subject. “Listen Betty. If I decide to play and win the Mansion Living Lottery you’re coming with me. Promise.” I said.

“So? Which one?” She said, ignoring what I had just said.

“So? Don’t you want to live like Roy Reather for five or ten years?” I said mimicking the way he smiled.

She stood still as stone with her arms folded and said nothing like a school teacher trying to get the truth from one of her students.

I sucked my teeth and pointed to the lottery I won in the window. “That one. That’s the one and I am one of the …” I said looking around before whispering to Betty the W word with one hand over my mouth. The word that could cause chaos and a feeding frenzy.

She nodded and mouthed the word “Winner.”

I nodded.

“Ha… That one… OK.” She said tilting her head sideways as if I was a piece of the most modern art she ever saw that she could not understand.

I absorbed her disapproval and forced a smile.

“You sucker. That’s a worthless prize. You didn’t go and waste your time and money playing that waste of a game for that waste of a prize?” She said.

I did not answer her. Moments passed before I sucked my teeth.

Her pale, smooth forehead wrinkled. “Oh. I’m sorry honey. It’s wonderful that you won. I’m happy for you. I hope I didn’t make you feel bad but next time consider using your luck wisely.” She said.   

“I just don’t want to see you make bad lottery choices and become another one of those lottery duds you read about. Wisdom is the most valuable gift we have. It’s much more valuable than intelligence. Come on and let’s go to Milans for a coffee to talk this over.” She said.

The muscles in my face relaxed into a smile and I decided to at least listen to her brand of wisdom on the life changes that awaited me. It never would have occurred to me that one day I would be chatting over a cup of coffee with my downstairs neighbor about my lottery win, but that was where I was. We walked a few blocks down from the DigiDeli to a neighborhood fixture of a business. A café where locals like myself hung out often and guzzled fine coffee.

Betty held the door open for me and waved for me to go inside.

I stopped before walking through the doorway. “Wait a sec.” I said as I dug my hand in my pocket for my phone.

I opened my job Gizmo software to let my job know that I was taking the day off then walked through the door of Milan’s with a wide smile. “This is how you take a day off Betty.” I said.

End of Part 1

***

Written by John Ink2Quill

I2Q Blogs / Stories ink2quill / john / lotteries / quill / space lotteries / stories /