I'm addicted, a gambler of the most pathetic kind. I feel like if I just try harder, go to the grocery store more often, then there is no one who deserves to win the grand prize more than myself. Idling at red lights, I carefully plan how I will invest and spend my earnings. The cashiers now know me by sight, though I nonchalantly pretend that I've forgotten yet another very important ingredient for tonight's dinner. I make casual conversation with them, trying to make them like me to give me extra tickets.
Some cashiers smile, others roll their eyes.
I am embarrassed for myself, because although I've paid correct change for my jug of milk, I wait for the receipt and the game piece. My face turns red and I duck out of the store quickly. Sometimes, when I go back to the store more than once in the same day, I am too embarrassed to go to the same cashier twice. I wait in another line, even if it's longer, hoping that the cashier won't catch my eye. To minimize my disgrace and to maximize my chances, I visit the Ingles all across the region.