Lucky Man: A Short Story
Backstory
This is the story of an ordinary working man who’s just trying to get his job done, make a living, and have a life. Things aren’t really going that well for him and then one day fate takes a hand and things will never quite be the same again.
Lucky Man
His name was Greg. He worked for a brokerage firm as a mid-level manager. He was risk averse and all about conserving his assets. The problem was, he didn’t have many. He lived in a high rise eight blocks from his office downtown in the big city. It was expensive to live there. But it kept him close to work, and he worked a lot. He could walk or ride public transportation. It saved him money on a vehicle. It was tough on his dry cleaning bill in the summer if he walked. So usually he stayed later on those hot days, tried to avoid the crowds, and took the subway when he could.
He had some sparse but expensive living room furniture. He ate at the bar in the kitchen. His bedroom furniture consisted of a mattress and a stack of plastic boxes where he kept his clothes and personal items. His salary just wasn’t that great. He struggled constantly to survive and maintain his work image. Dinner was ramen noodles or macaroni unless he went out with a client.
His girlfriend, sort of, had dumped him the week before. She told him he was a total loser and that he would never amount to anything. That he should get loser tattooed on his forehead.
Greg didn’t think much of that idea, and while he was sorry to see her go, he understood that he was stuck in a bit of a rut. Okay, maybe a big rut.
On Monday, his rent was due. He’d had to replace a suit, and it had really stressed his budget. Bonuses had been low the last few months, and what he had saved had dwindled away.
He finished work late on a Friday night and walked slowly to his high rise. The streets were emptying and the restaurants and clubs along the way were filled to overflowing, but he walked home alone.
There was a convenience store on the ground floor of his building. He went in for a moment to see if he might find anything else to eat. While strolling the aisles, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cash. He unfolded it and was saddened to see that he only had $4.00.
Rent was due the coming Monday, and he didn’t get paid until the following Friday. He’d thought there was going to be a bonus today, but his manager advised him that while the numbers were just barely good enough, the bonus had been deferred until the following week. It was going to be awkward dealing with the building manager about the rent. He’d never been late before.
Greg had no place to turn, no one to call. He might pawn something, but he didn’t really have anything worth the price of his rent. The bonus he had projected would have been just big enough to pay the rent and get him to Friday and his regular check. You’re never as smart as you think, and luck always runs out. Greg had arrived at that point.
He circled the aisles again, looking and thinking. Then he saw the signs, Powerball $636 million, right next to the Mega Million 1.2 billion sign. Wow! I didn’t know they were that high or that they got that high, he thought to himself.
Amazing! What would that translate to after present value and taxes?
Greg wasn’t a gambler. He thought wagers, short of a known quantity, were a waste of resources. But he knew how the lottery worked. You could take the money in a chunk after it had been reduced to present value, and you paid taxes, or you could take it in lump sums over twenty years. Twenty years was a long time to let someone else hold your money. It was true you got more money that way, but you could invest it yourself and cut out the middleman and potential tax increases, or anything else that might go wrong.
Greg thought about it for a minute. What were the odds, one in several hundred million, for winning one or the other? But somebody would win, somebody always did. Greg did the math in his head and realized that the net from both tickets would be just over a billion dollars. I got $4, he thought to himself. That’s one ticket each. I got macaroni upstairs, what do I have to lose. It made him smile for the first time in a long time. He bought the two tickets, strolled out to the elevator, and punched the “up” button.
Greg went to bed early and woke the next morning wondering how he was going to spend the weekend. He didn’t have to work for once. Something free would be nice, maybe a long walk around the city.
He showered, put on clothes, ate a piece of toast, and left the building. He turned and started down the street toward the park. It was a beautiful morning. The sun hadn’t been up long and there wasn’t much traffic. The city emptied during the day on the weekends. It was almost like he had the world to himself. It was good to be alive.
He rounded the corner on a street and saw the lottery signs in a window. Powerball read 40 million. Somebody had won the big one the night before. He smiled again. Somebody always wins.
He spent the morning walking the city, watching the sky change colors, marveling at the architecture, lost in a sea of concrete, and without a care.
Late in the afternoon he made his way back to the high rise. He showered and looked in the pantry, macaroni and ramen noodles. Let’s do noodles, chicken, shrimp or beef?
He had a small patio, and he took his dinner and sat outside until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. Then he went to bed.
The following morning Greg went to the door and picked up his copy of the Times. He only subscribed to the large Sunday edition. It was too expensive. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered.
Scrawled across the headline, Mega Million winner! Greg read that someone, as yet unidentified, had won the big jackpot and if they took it in cash, the net would be nearly three quarters of a billion dollars.
He had to smile at that. Wouldn’t I like to have them for a client. Then he thought to check his own tickets, just for fun. Maybe he’d gotten one number that matched.
He walked to the counter, picked up the tickets from where he’d left them and fired up his tablet. First, let’s check Powerball, then I’ll check Mega Millions.
He looked out the window over the patio. It was another beautiful day, maybe another walk.
He pulled up the lottery sites and identified the date and then the winning numbers, Powerball was first. The numbers were 1,7,10,17,56 and a Powerball of 17. He wrote them down, then pulled up the Mega Million numbers. They were 10 17, 27, 36, 56 and a mega number of 10.
Greg laid his tickets side by side and went to match the numbers.
He called off the Powerball numbers and checked each one as he read it. Then the Mega Million numbers, again checking each one as he read it. Then he stopped. He looked at the page, every number was checked, all twelve of them.
He leaned back, dropping his pencil. They all match. What have I done, wrong?
He looked again, checked the date, checked the numbers, read them off, and matched each one of them again.
He went to the living room and sat in the single chair, but then moved to the couch. I need to lie down.
His heart was racing, and he noticed a sweat on his forehead he rubbed with his fingers. This is not possible. What are the odds, a quadrillion to one, squared.
He lay back against the couch, holding his arm under his head so as not to stain the pillow and have to have it cleaned.
Winning both would translate to over a billion dollars. If this was true, he’d just become the world’s newest billionaire. Greg the mid-level manager was now a billionaire.
He looked at the back of the tickets and saw a phone number. He dialed it hastily and after a few rings got a recording that said he was outside office hours and would need to try again on Monday.
Greg lay on the couch the rest of the day, careful not to move. He was petrified. What am I going to do with all that money? It’s an awesome responsibility. I can change the world. I can make a difference. I can do nothing. I can buy stuff. What am I going to do? Who can I trust?
At work on Monday, Greg could barely sit still. He had reports that had been requested first thing, and he was trying to concentrate until he got a break and could call the lottery office. He wanted to go outside, or at least some place private. He wasn’t sure where.
His manager came by and asked how the reports were coming. Greg stammered. The manager cut him off, “Whatever it is, get with the program,” and strode off.
Greg tried, but he couldn’t stand it. He got up, left the office, rode down the elevator, and stepped into the empty diner on the first floor. He stood in a corner and called the lottery office. He told them the story, read them the numbers, and they confirmed him as the tentative winner. They said they had never seen or heard of anyone winning both lotteries back to back. It was unprecedented. Could he come in and bring the tickets? He readily agreed.
Greg went to the lottery office, confirmed everything, and assigned the money to his personal brokerage account. Then he walked slowly back to the office.
When he got there, his manager was standing by his desk.
“Where have you been?” he demanded. “Are the reports ready.”
Greg looked at him and then spoke slowly and calmly as he glanced at the desk and realized there was nothing to pick up.
“I think you should get with the program, I don’t do that kind of work anymore. In fact, I resign effective immediately,” replied Greg, who then turned and walked out the door.
The entire room had turned silent as they heard this exchange. It dumbfounded them. One just didn’t treat managers like that. Had Greg lost his mind. They whispered among themselves.
Greg walked slowly home.
The next morning there was a knock at the door. It was the high rise manager. Greg thought to himself, I forgot to talk to him yesterday.
The manager stood at the door quietly fidgeting. He handed Greg a copy of the daily Times.
“If there is anything I can do, just let me know,” the manager stammered.
Greg was confused and looked down at the floor. He saw the headline.
“World’s Newest Billionaire,” there it was. The story called him by name. At that minute his phone rang, this tablet dinged, and he saw the elevator doors open and a herd of people burst out.
He knew immediately, “Thanks so much,” he nodded to the manager and closed and locked the door quickly.
Half a day later his voice mail was full, his email was jammed up from traffic, and he had a splitting headache.
Work had called repeatedly wanting him to deposit the money with them. His former girlfriend had called repeatedly pleading to get back together, and there were reams of requests for humanitarian donations, investment opportunities, and people wanting to borrow money for a “sure thing” and many favors and requests. The hallway outside his door was jammed. He was about out of macaroni and not sure when he could get away from them.
He rubbed the back of his neck and felt a lump. It had been there for some time and it was getting larger. He thought to himself, “I’d better go to a doctor and get that checked.”
He leaned back on the couch, and passed out.
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