SIMON WALKER: Friends with fortune

I HAVE gone on record many times in this column about how nice it would be to win the lottery.

Actually, win anything. A chook raffle. Bingo. Scrabble would do.

So imagine my bitter resentment, I mean joyous celebration, when I recently spoke to a couple who had won the lottery not once, but twice, in the space of a few months. And not small numbers, mind you.

The reaction was "wow", followed shortly after by "that's not fair". Ain't human nature pathetic.

But truly I am happy for them, because it gives me hope.

For security reasons I can't reveal the identity of the talismanic flutterers. But they exist, and for a small fee, are available for hugs. Luck rubs off, you know.

I hope. And this is how it happened.

The couple had just retired. That was good.

Then suddenly the GFC hit. That was bad.

The nest egg shrunk. That was very bad.

Along with feelings of long-term security. That was the worst.

What to do? Worry a lot, for starters.

Then visit friends at an undisclosed town in NSW. Which they did.

As had become their practice since retiring, they went for a morning coffee.

And as had further become their practice since retiring, they bought a lottery ticket.

As had not become the practice at that stage, after checking the number online, they discovered they'd hit the jackpot.

I won't say how much they won, but it was enough to sort out all those post-GFC concerns.

For most of us, and them too by the sound of it, that would have been the end of it. They'd never really won anything substantial before in their lives. They didn't really expect to ever again.

So they settled back, thankful for their good fortune.

But being exceptionally nice people with a belief in karma, they made a mental note that next time they visited that undisclosed town in NSW they'd call in and present the person who gave them the winning ticket a token of their appreciation.

In fact, they rang ahead to let the person know of their intention.

Of course, this being a story of amazingly nice people, (blessed with excruciating good luck) the woman who sold the ticket refused to accept any credit.

But our fair couple would have none of it, insisting that this person had allowed them to have an amazing experience and they wanted to say thank you.

And so they did a couple of months later.

As was their practice, they went for morning coffee and then wandered up to the shop to say hello.

Then, after a lovely chat, as was the practice, the woman bought a scratchie.

The man by that stage was down at a bargain store hunting for plastic garden shoes.

The woman went back to her car, to scratch.

Boom! Lottery lightning struck twice. This time twice as hard. Can you believe it?

The woman couldn't, and had to race off to the bargain shop to confirm it with her husband. He immediately ordered two pairs of plastic shoes.

That's when people started asking for those hugs.

And that's when I started thinking about that fee.

Actually, in hindsight, I should have kidnapped the lady at the newsagent.

She was channelling some serious ju-ju.

The moral of the story, according to the man, is that you never ever know what's going to happen, and that luck's a gamble.

Does good luck really exist? Blog with Simon below.


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