Everyone knows one or two people who are unbelievably lucky. When they drop precious crystal, it falls softly and doesn’t break. When contests come to an end or names are drawn, they often hold the winning ticket.
We have a friend who was born under a lucky star. At one of the local service clubs, members can’t believe how often her name is drawn for the morning prize. A few even rub themselves against her hoping to transfer some of her magical touch.
But she goes on to win at every event she’s part of and every casino she enters. I remember sitting down beside this woman at a casino south of the border, and within a few minutes she’d won three jackpots. Nearly every time she goes on a junket, she comes home ahead.
In our group of friends, I’m considered the second luckiest one. I have won several 50-50 draws, had my name drawn for numerous baskets of goodies, and hit major jackpots at casinos. Over the years, I’ve won a snow blower from Trowelex, a large barbecue from Kootenay Market, and a Bulova watch from Safeway. Three times when asked to draw the winning ticket, I have drawn my own name.
Recently, however, while I was at the Union of British Columbia Municipalities meeting, I had my “biggest” win ever.
At these meetings, there is usually a trade fair set up in a nearby hall. Councillors can visit hundreds of booths and view products and procedures useful to municipalities. Each booth often has a container in which to leave your business card and perhaps win a prize.
At the Municipal Insurance Association booth, they had a wheel to spin to win an instant prize – everything from whistles to large furry stuffed animals. I spun the wheel twice and hit the large furry animal slot both times.
The booth-lady dragged a six foot moose with a plaid scarf from behind the counter and plopped it into my arms. I thought winning the moose was okay until I remembered I had meetings to go to that day – one possibly with a government minister.
Sometimes when you go to conferences with hundreds of councillors and mayors from around the province, you can often move from place to place rather anonymously. Not so after I won the moose and carried it from meeting to meeting.
I was stopped by the convention photographer who wanted the moose and me to be shown on the convention screen. Several people wanted to know the moose’s name – and then some wag came up with the original name of “chocolate.”
At day’s end, I had to run the gauntlet from harbourside to my hotel eight blocks away. One lady stopped me and said that my moose and I had elicited her first laugh of the day. I said, “Oh, yeah, ha, ha!”
Two slightly inebriated men thought I was in need of a chapel to get married in. “Marry her quickly,” one of them said. “She seems to be dragging her feet and doesn’t want to do the deed.” Little did I know, but as I was carrying the moose, its enormous feet were flapping on the sidewalk.
About a block from the hotel, along came my wife to meet me. When she noted my huge companion, she seemed to hesitate. I knew she was thinking she should turn around and walk the other way, pretend she didn’t see me.
We met, however, and laughed all the way to the hotel with every guest doing a double-take or making a comment along the way.