A few years back, I worked in a tobacco shop that sold lottery tickets. Lemme just say that when I become facist dictator of planet America, we'll not be starting with the lawyers, but with the lotto players. Starting with the oldest.
Anyway, the machine cuts out about ten minutes prior to the drawing. Right before that, one dark and rainy night, one of the Macy's perfume girls dashes in to make it under the cut. She plays her numbers, the machine cuts out, and we start talking about the lottery and old people and stuff. People think that the guy in the tobacco shop has all the keys to life's mysteries. I don't see it, myself.
Meanwhile, we start on probability and the lottery. I give her a quick rundown on probability and how anything with odds will follow a wavy curve instead of a strait line... That is, flipping 50 pennies won't produce h-t-h-t-h-t-h-t-h-t-h-t-h-t in perfect order like that. So, if she really wants to win the lottery, she needs to follow the numbers and follow the trends. Hey, it was off the cuff, but she was cute and thought I was cute AND smart. She smelled nice, too, but I guess that goes with the job.
So, I show her some of the trends on the record boards for the past few months, and tell her she should pick two single-digit numbers, but not 7 or 5. Then, the fifth digit is almost always in the thirties, with the sixth digit being half in the forties and half in the thirties (the game was the pick-6). The remaining two numbers simply tended to be above 20 but below 40, with the occasional number in the teens. So, while doing this, I picked six numbers as examples.
Then, we watched the drawing on the little TV kept in the back of the shop for just that purpose (she was on break so she still had a few minutes to kill). Not surprisingly, of the six numbers I'd written down, five came out. She looks at me in utter awe as the numbers roll out one at a time. Of course, I'm all like "Yeah, I make it look easy". Then, when the last one was drawn, I said to her "Man, I can't believe I wasted that
amazing line of ******** on the Macy's perfume girl! I could have been chatting up the Strawbridges jewelry-counter chick!" Sometimes, to my dismay, my fun sarcasm sounds almost exactly like my not-so-fun sarcasm.
So, two days later, the rest of the Macy's perfume flock came in to play their numbers, and asked me if I was that jerk who can pick the numbers. That's why I shop at Strawbridges...Because I can afford Strawbridges prices with my non-lotto-winning paycheck and the jewelry counter chick doesn't know I'm a jerk yet.

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