Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, March 25, 1990 TAG: 9003262192
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: ED SHAMY STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
You've plowed into a scientist, this time, Bennie me boy.
For the past week, I have been compiling irrefutable data to prove that the lottery is the biggest rip-off this side of the personal property tax.
So far I have found that the return on an investment in a Stephen Lucion shopping plaza is far better than the return on a lottery ticket. At least you can see Lucion go to jail when it's all over. Virginia Lottery operatives not only remain at large, they eat in the finest restaurants.
I have a pile of that silvery scratch-off gunk the size of a size 9 penny loafer on the floor of my car. Is that stuff toxic? I have a sheaf of losing tickets thick as my wallet used to be. I am teaching you a valuable lesson here, Bennie, so pay attention.
The saddest part of all is Ruby's role in all this. If I could turn a profit here, Ruby the striped, cramped feline would be lounging in some gigantic habitat, gnawing on a gazelle thigh by now.
But no, there she wallows in a cage hardly suitable for a dachsund.
Fat lot you care, right Bennie? If Ruby could fit into a bikini, you'd be reading Standard & Poor's by now, trying to pick out a blue chip stock. You'd be hedging pork belly futures.
Ruby, expand on the bust, shave your legs, and smile at Uncle Bennie. You'll spare us all his incessant whining about what he'd do with oodles of cash. I, for one, will gladly sign a month's worth of paychecks over to your cause Ruby, if you can get Bennie to clam up.
Sorry, Ruby, you are the pawn in all this. You are the victim of Bennie's avarice.
I could take this $100 and buy enough rare collectibles at Happy's Flea Market in an afternoon to finance Ruby's cage, with money left over to subsidize zoo admission fees for poor kids for the next decade.
But no. As your spiritual supervisor, Bennie, I am compelled to teach you a lesson.
And so on Monday I buy $10 worth of lottery tickets at the Glenvar Minute Mart, which only recently produced a lottery millionaire. White tigers outnumber lottery millionaires. White tigers that can sing the Star Spangled Banner on key outnumber lottery millionaires, for God's sake, Bennie! I kissed my ten-spot good-bye.
On Tuesday, I made the mistake of allowing my 4-year-old daughter to scratch off a ticket from the Snappy Food Mart on Plantation Road. She won $6, and was sent to her room without dinner. I flushed another six bucks at the Hop In store on Colonial Avenue.
Wednesday found me in Cloverdale, at Scott's Thrift Store. I bought six tickets and found a penny in the parking lot. Cursing my luck, I used the new penny to scratch a card. Free ticket. I redeemed it. Free ticket again. I couldn't risk more success, so I pitched that rotten lucky penny into the briars. Sure enough, my own nickel came up a loser.
I figured I would best take my business elsewhere.
I won $4 at Zip In Food Mart in Salem. Drat.
Keep that up and Bennie would become a diehard lottery player.
Thursday, I returned to form, losing $10 at Wilco in Vinton.
Friday, ditto, at the Japanese-owned 7-Eleven on Bridge Street in Roanoke.
I'm on a roll now, down $40, assuming I didn't win Saturday night's Lotto drawing, which is a darned good bet.
All it took was a Pick-3 here, a Play TV there. See a trend, Bennie? See Ruby wasting away? The statistics don't lie. I'm going down the tubes and I'm taking you with me, young man.
You'll have to look for another financial messiah, Bennie.
Horse racing? Dog racing? Jai alai? I have a friend building a shopping plaza, maybe you could invest with him.
by CNB