schlimazel
or schli·mazl, shli·ma·zel, shli·mazl
[shli-mah-zuh l]
- an inept, bungling person who suffers from unremitting bad luck.
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Jack sat
slumped over the old, worn table. He
moved the coin over the paper-like material, revealing what was hidden under
the iron-grey surface. Another number he
did not need. Of course. He was not expecting anything else. There was only one more space left to scratch
off, and it would probably be a bust too.
The fact that he had two of the big winning $25,000 numbers showing just
made it worse.
He
rubbed off the peeling layer of the scratch-off ticket and his hand paused mid
way through. He blinked and shook his
head. Could it be? It was not a number that was being revealed,
but the bonus symbol. At least, he
thought it was. It could have been some
kind of printer error. He finished revealing
the ink and sure enough, it was indeed the bonus symbol. His eyes grew wide with amazement. Never before had a dollar sign meant so much
to him.
$50,000. He had just won a whopping $50,000 from a $2
ticket from a gas station. He could pay
off his debts. He could get a better apartment. He could do so much with that money, even if
much of it would disappear after the IRS got done with it. It was still more money than he had ever had
before. And all he needed to do was get
somewhere to turn it in.
He
rushed to make himself ready to leave, throwing on his shoes and jacket. As soon as everything was on, he felt his toe
start to pierce the worn out material of his shoes. He put it out of his mind. He could buy new ones. He left his run down apartment and was met by
a bitter blast of winter cold, made worse by his shoe.
He looked
around and started running as fast as the icy sidewalk would allow him. He would allow nothing to get in his
way. This was his first big break in,
well, ever. He had never seemed to do
anything right, no matter how hard he tried.
His entire life was a string of failures and bad luck. Well no more.
This winning lottery ticket was the end of all that. From now on, he would be a success. He would make it. He would get by.
In his
haste, he ran into people, who looked at him oddly, some with suspicion, others
with disgust, but most with annoyance.
Jack tripped over his own feet as he went, but was able to right
himself. He quickly checked his pocket. The ticket was still there. He still had his shot.
He kept
going, heading to the nearest store. He
was in such a hurry that he did not notice some movers carrying a heavy piece
of furniture towards an apartment building.
He ran right into it. This put him
on the ground, and earned the immediate ire of the movers.
They
yelled at him as they retrieved their load, calling him all manner of colorful,
and none too flattering, names before continuing on their way. Jack moaned as he started to recover from the
run-in. He slipped his hand into his
pocket as he stood. His eyes shot
open. The ticket was gone. He checked every single pocket, but he no
longer had it.
He
looked around at the ground nearby.
There! It was there, caught under
a crack in the sidewalk. He dashed over
to it. Before he could reach it though,
a passerby’s foot loosened the ticket. A
harsh winder wind caught it and stirred it up, moving it away from him. He chased after the ticket, desperate to
catch his big break. People moving in
the opposite direction kept getting in his way, and he shoved them away as much
as he could.
Then it
landed. The ticket finally came down to
the ground. It landed in a slushy puddle,
but it was still usable if he got to it fast enough. The puddle caught a breeze kicked up by
passing cars. The puddle lead into a
drain. And Jack was powerless to save
the ticket, and he watched in despair and horror as his big break literally went
down the drain.
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I've never won anything higher than $4 on a scratch off ticket. Of course, I don't really get them either. I think I've bought maybe one in my life? All the others came from gifts and such. It's nice to think what would happen if I actually won though.
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