I’m Frozen with Panic and My Life Is an Unmitigated Mess
The good news: I won the lottery. Big time. Low eight figures. That’s right. Eight figures. You do the math.
The bad news: I’m frozen with panic. I haven’t told a soul. My life is falling apart. Help!
When I logged onto the lottery’s web site and compared my ticket’s number with the winning Lopalooza Mega Gazillions winning number, I couldn’t believe it. I checked my number against the winning number several times. Then, the room became dark and began to slowly whirl around. For a moment, I thought maybe I was having a stroke.
My next impulse was to race through the house screaming, “I won the lottery. I won the lottery.” But just as I was about to open my mouth, it hit me: Jasmine and I had been together more than 20 years and in most every sense we are married, except for one thing. We weren’t legally married.
I sat down on the stairs. So, speaking frankly, just how much of my, yes, my $12 million before taxes is Jasmine entitled to? Half? None? Are we a common law married couple? Or are we still just two lost souls shacking up?
Clearly, I needed some legal advice, and quick.
Jasmine was in the kitchen baking cookies. I told her I was going to the hardware store. Once I hit Main Street, I started looking for lawyers’ signs. I climbed the stairs to the first lawyer’s office I saw. Within a minute or two I was sitting in front of this little dweeb with a scraggly moustache and one eyebrow that twitched.
“I’ve won the lottery big time and I don’t know what to do,” I blurted out.
Guess what? The first words out of his mouth were, “How much did you win?” You could see the wheels turning in his pointy head. Just how big a fee could he milk out of this?
I jumped up and ran from the room. “Wait! I can help you,” he called from the top of the stairs as I fled to the street.
My heart was racing. I could feel a full-blown panic attack coming as I headed down the street. That’s when the cop pulled me over for driving erratically. We had a nice chat and he decided not to ticket me.
As he was about to return to the patrol car, I almost blurted out, “I won the lottery big time.” But I caught myself, because the first words out of his mouth would be, “How much did you win?” Out would come his ticket book.
So, I went to the bank and sought out Joe, the manager, a fellow Orioles fan, who I’ve known for ten years or so.
“I want to get a safe deposit box.” I said.
“Don’t you and Jasmine already have one?” he asked.
“I want another box just in my name.”
I received a long, searching look as he laid the forms in front of me.
Once I was inside the privacy booth with the door locked, I pulled the lottery ticket from my wallet and laid it in the new box. As I left the bank — the ticket now safely in the vault — I could feel Joe’s disapproving eyes following me.
Back in the kitchen, Jasmine announced that the lead item on the noon news was the $12 million lottery ticket Stop and Binge had sold someone. A news conference was planned as soon as the winner stepped forward.
“Isn’t Stop and Binge where you buy your ticket every week?” she asked. “If you won like that, we could be both rich and famous.” I fled up the stairs to my study.
So there you have it. I’m a quivering mess. Maybe I should just tear the ticket up and maintain my humble, but satisfying life.
Well… no. Maybe I should just sit on the ticket for a few months. Calm down. Think things through. Get my affairs in order.
I know! I’ll ask Mr. Google for help. What’s a good search term? How about:
lottery winner millions secrecy pay no taxes take money run start over beautiful sex toy babe how to