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- “What is
the Jackpot, Today?”
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- Grandmother knocks on my door, asking me to go to the
liquor store and buy a Super Lotto ticket for her.
I have not been outside the house since Friday, right before Spring
Break, except for work with B & G Maintenance Co. I
drive to Eddie’s Liquor, on the corner of Market Street and Cherry Avenue,
but turn around because the line of people waiting to purchase their tickets
stretches to the sidewalk. I
have not read the LA Times for two weeks now, nor watch the evening news.
I am quite content.
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- On the corner of Poppy and Cherry Avenue, there is
another liquor store with a longer line of people waiting.
I get out of the car and wait behind a big Jamaican woman who is
chain-smoking as if the world owes her an apology.
I am coughing with tears in my eyes, but she is not bothered, of
course. I take out a pen and
circle the oval shapes on the slip according to Grandmother’s written
numbers. I ask the guy behind
me, “What is the jackpot, today?” “One
hundred million,” he answers. I
thank him and he smiles back. But
the fat woman in front of us is not smiling.
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- With the ticket in my jeans’ pocket and a case of
Budweiser on the passenger's seat, I drive.
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