So iTunes hit its 1 billionth song download, but it wasn't me. If the amount of entertainment I derived from a $25 gift certificate for xmas is any indication, I really would've had a good time with one for $10,000. The iMac and 10 iPods would've been cool too.
It reminds me of that huge lottery I drove to Georgia to play. An eighteen year old girl (which I call her reluctantly since young woman sounds redundant while woman just sounds too old in this instance) who had never played a lottery before won the $220 million.
Never having played has always seemed a foreign concept to me. Sure, you can't collect until you're 18, but my mom would let my brother and I pick numbers, and sometimes we'd drive over the border for a big jackpot. Good times.
My second year in LA, playing the lottery became a regular pick-me-up. Just a dollar to entertain some extravagant daydreams until the next drawing. I'd walk to the liquor store down the street to get my ticket.
On one occasion when I handed my card to the guy behind the counter, a woman came up and asked me if she should play.
I sort of shrugged and said, "Yeah, it's up to $112 million."
"Oh," she exhaled in enthusiasm.
I pocketed my slip of picks and turned to leave, but she was blocking my way.
"How do you play?" she asked.
It was a ridiculous question to me. How can someone not know how to play the lottery? I wondered.
"You just take one of these," I said handing her a blank card, "and pick six numbers." I maneuvered my way around her so I could get to the door.
"How do you mean? Could you show me?"
My hand was pushing the door open. Oh, you've got to be kidding. Nobody could be that clueless. I let the door go and turned back. I pointed to the card and said, "You just fill in the blocks of the six numbers you want."
"How do you choose your numbers?" she pressed on.
It's not like I had somewhere to be, but the onslaught of dumb questions was getting to me.
"Favorite number, birthdays, that sort of thing. You can pick whatever you want though," I said shoving the door all the way open, "Look, I've gotta go."
"Oh, OK. Thanks."
"Sure," I said with a brief nod before plunging out the doorway.
It wasn't until I was halfway home that I thought of an answer to: how could she possibly need so much help filling out a lottery card?
Maybe she didn't.
Maybe she was hitting on me.
I stopped, looked back down the sidewalk, and tried to remember what she looked like. I hadn't been paying much attention. Because I felt pretty scruffy in my frayed denim shorts and dark purple t-shirt with holes all along the edge of its central decal, being hit on just hadn't occurred to me.
I needed a second opinion, so I finished walking home and called a bud with a great sum of dating mojo. She wasn't sure either but suggested I change clothes and go back. By the time I psyched myself up to go talk to a stranger, the lottery woman was long gone.
tags: pick+up+lines, flirting, playing+the+lottery, iTunes+one+billionth+song+download, cluelessness
Granted it's entirely possible that she was hitting on you (God knows I never picked up on a bunch of instances that, in retrospect, clearly were "hit ons"), but I've found it more likely in the world these days that she was really just that stupid. Not to take away from your sex appeal or anything. I don't know you well enough to do that.
ReplyDeletei am hoping she was hitting on you. that makes a great porn.
ReplyDelete;) jk
sizz
Kevin: So if you knew me better, you'd rag on my sex appeal? Hmm. ;] Actually, I thought of it as much a commentary on my own obliviousness as possibly hers. At that time in my life, I was often missing the signs with my tendency to take things literally.
ReplyDeleteSizz: I'm hoping so too. Despite my growing skepticism towards people's intelligence these days, I see it as an unexpected ray of optimism on my part.
As for my future in porn, I would hope either for a more compelling storyline or something simpler like a prelude of great eye contact. ;)