Chapter 3: Schenectady
And so it went.
Met I think everyone who runs the lottery, moved up the chain of importance and suit sizes, lots of explaining and questions, brought into a room to hold some big check with my name on it alongside $2,000,000.00, asked them if they had a smaller check, one I could fold and stick into my pocket, “...train seats are kinda small you know.”
Got just looks on that.
“Mr. Blue do you have a bank you do business with.”
Do business with?
“I got one I cash my check in.”
“That’s just fine, who do you deal with at your bank.”
“LuLu.”
“Excuse me, is that the branch manager?”
“Don’t think so, LuLu been there a long time, I always go to her when I go there.”
“And this LuLu does she handle your finances.”
My finances?
“Um, yep she does, she handles my check when I slide it under the bars of her teller cage.”
The room was silent for some time after that.
After a bit I broke the silence, “So, I have to scoot, got a train to catch to get back home, Tuesday is ‘Wing Night,’ one of my best tips night, free wings too.”
Just weird looks my way.
“You see I’m the weekday piano player at my buddies Piano Bar and Grill, not really a Piano Bar without me at the piano you see, and also old Mrs. O’Grady is watching Boomer for me and if I’m not back for him by 4pm AT THE LATEST he’s going to poop on her rug again and it takes a couple of days to get someone to her apartment to clean the rug which means she has to live with the stink for a while. Me, you see, I’m used to it, not actually used to it but more nose blind if you know what I mean.”
More weird looks my way.
Mr. Slater, it is Mr. Slater right…
here’s my deal, I’m just a simple man, I don’t have much, I don’t need much. My life is this, I take care of my dog Boomer, Monday thru Thursday I walk a couple blocks to Gino’s Piano Bar & Grill and do my 8pm to midnight sets, collect the money in my tip jar, if there is any, leave the joint and stop at the newsstand on the corner and give the bookie there my nightly number, then walk home, pet the dog, change his water, and then climb into bed. That’s me Mr. Slater, that’s me.”
Mr. Slater just looks at me, the lady next to him smiles at me then looks away quickly horrified that the Hallmark Channel she’s addicted doesn’t sync up to my real life.
“So, Mr. Slater here’s the deal...no I don’t have all that financial information, I do though know the children of my bank teller, I know I have been filling the IRS short form since about the time the Beatles broke up, my attorney is Ashley or James at the Manhattan Legal Aid Society. But Mr. Slater I do know this, I have in my jean pocket one of your scratch off tickets, one of your winning scratch off tickets and I do know what were under those football helmets you put on your lottery ticket TWO MILLION DOLLARS.”
No one said anything.
“I will have Ashley or James from Legal Aid get in contact with you as will the lady from the 1040A-In-30-Minutes-Or-Under booth in Stop & Shop and LuLu at my bank, that ok with y’all.”
Nods all around.
“Mr. Blue is there anything else we can do for you.”
“Yes please.”
“What is it sir.”
“Small bills.”
Now I gotta say this to be honest, you know, them lottery folks, they nice people, I get it that they don’t keep that kind of cash handy, couple of them said they wish they had bought that ticket, a few though asked me what I was going to do with the money.
“Buy better dog food… “ I told them, which is true...
“…and flowers for old Mrs. O’Grady.”