ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times
DATE: Monday, April 14, 1997 TAG: 9704140023
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-1 VIRGINIA EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: a cuppa joe
SOURCE: JOE KENNEDY
Don Roy has removed the lottery machine from his downtown Roanoke business, Milan Bros. tobacco shop.
Word of the change traveled through the newsroom like a marble through a vat of thick pudding. Eventually, it reached me. The investigative squad was at lunch.
My source was worried: Is there, he or she asked, any other place to buy Lotto tickets downtown?
I spoke to Roy. He smelled of cigars, and we were only talking on the phone.
I said, "Why?"
"We wanted to make some changes in the store," he said, "and the lottery machine was just interfering with the whole move. ... We wanted to expand our cigar-related accessories."
But what about the people, I said. Without a lottery site near their offices, they'd no longer be able to gamble on their lunch breaks.
Nonsense, he said. Meador & Co., the locksmith on Church Avenue near the City Market, has a Lotto machine and scratch games. The Campbell Mart, which occupies the former Woolworth's store, has scratch games and soon will go on line. You can scratch at the ABC store, too.
There's an old newspaper saying: If your mother tells you she loves you, check it out. Problem is, no journalist's mother ever said such a thing. That's why we became journalists - to find out why.
I had to see for myself.
I hadn't been to Milan's in ages, but I remembered the aroma. Like a lot of things that aren't good for you, it smelled great.
"The reason you put a Lotto machine in is it's supposed to bring traffic into your store and enhance your business," Roy told me. "Since I purchased the business" - three years ago - "my business has doubled, but the lottery has gone down each year."
He wanted to "remerchandise the store and expand the exploding categories."
Exploding sales, he meant. Not exploding cigars.
Most of Roy's tobacco customers played the lottery only when the jackpots got big. His lottery regulars seldom bought tobacco products or accessories.
When jackpots were big, he might sell 1,100 tickets in a day. But retailers keep only a nickel from each buck. He'd earn $55 and pay someone nearly that much to run the machine.
Meanwhile, his wares went unsold.
At Milan's, cigar lighters run from $20 to $120, humidors up to $750, imported premium cigars from $3 to $14.50 apiece.
It made no sense, he said.
Even a fool could understand that.
I certainly did.
You still can buy scratch cards and Lotto tickets at Meador & Co., but Danny Washburn said there was "a very good possibility ... of giving it up."
He had his reasons. They sounded complicated. I figured you wouldn't be interested.
I hoofed it to the Campbell Mart, where the inventory - groceries, kiddie backpacks, the largest free-standing collection of wigs I've ever seen - resembles the inside of a newsman's mind.
"Friday or Monday they might bring the [Lotto] machine in," manager Linda Esparza said. "We're hopeful [customers] will come in and pick up something else they need."
But she, too, said, "You don't really make anything off it."
There are 3,000 on-line lottery outlets in Virginia. It's fairly rare for an on-line seller to give one up, as Roy did, a lottery spokesman said. "We don't have enough to go around."
But I was satisfied. Roy's logic held water, and downtown workers could still go gambling on their lunch hours.
Wednesday's jackpot was $10million. I decided to take a chance on a dream, but it didn't work out. Such dreams never do.
And we all know that's not news.
What's your story? Call me at 981-3256, send e-mail to joek@roanoke.com or write to P.O. Box 2491, Roanoke 24010.
LENGTH: Medium: 78 linesby CNB