Quasi-Instant Millionaire

During my lunch break, I had to run to the post office to mail something. (For the record, I will say that post offices are some of the most confusing places ever invented, especially the one in Grand Central. It is huge, and it just looks like there are random lines of impatient people all over the place, sighing and rolling their eyes as the people ahead of them take more than 2 minutes to figure out what they need to do and where to go. I, for one, got in the wrong line, mainly because I was tired of pointlessly wandering, and the line looked long enough that it should be the right one.)

As I was patiently waiting in line, I started observing the man in front of me. An over-stuffed, worn messenger bag was slung across his left shoulder and hanging in front of him. He was holding what, to me, the inexperienced gambler, appeared to be an entire booklet of lottery tickets. He was holding at least 15, and just kept pulling more out of his bag. Every additional ticket was a new chance to become an "Instant Millionaire!!", yet from the look of it he hadn't won yet, and the scratched tickets accumulating in his hands were not helping.

All of a sudden he turned around, looks at me and gestures from himself to the trash can 10 feet away, and back to the line, and I assumed he meant he would be right back. Just like I thought, he dashed to the trash can, tossed out the tickets and ran back. He then leaned on a counter, pulled out a few more tickets (!!) out of his bag, looked at me and goes "You look like a lucky lady! Maybe I'll win this time!" (Don't ask me what a lucky person looks like, I don't know). He then rambled on about how he wins a lot of time, because "people don't know the game so they're scared and they don't play. so I win!" He was ecstatic.

That was the last thing he said to me before dashing (he seemed to be in a hurry, for some reason. At one point, his cell phone rang and, after being very pleasant to the person on the other end, hung up and said F*@#$ pain in the a$$!" I had to laugh at that) to the counter, getting something stamped, and running out.

I'll be honest and say I really don't know where I'm going with this story, except proving my point that there are weird people in New York City, who constantly brighten up my days (there was also a lady who rudely asked me for the time, and as I was rummaging through my bag she just walked away ignoring my obvious puzzlement). But that's what makes NYC so special and loveable!