“One, two, three, four, five and six. Why not play them?”
“You crazy? That’ll never happen.”
“Last week’s winning numbers were three, thirteen, eighteen, twenty-six, thirty-nine and fifty-two, how about that?”
“Same six numbers twice in a row, what are the odds of that?”
“Same as if you picked one, two, three, four, five and six.”
“See what I mean, never happen!”
“What are your numbers?”
“Four and six for my son’s birthday, fourteen for my favorite baseball player as a kid, twenty-four because as a kid I always thought I’d get married at twenty-four and didn’t until I was thirty-four, saving ten years of grief. So I’ll throw in ten. I once walked into a bar in Elko, placed one ten buck bet on thirty-three, which was my house address as a kid, it hit for the three hundred sixty buck return, so that’s in.”
” Just as likely as any other numbers, like one, two, three, four, five, and six. ”
“Now I know you, craaaaazy, man, that’s never gonna happen!”
“Sorry guys, too late, computer won’t take any more bets.”
“Shit! Man, I felt good this week, all this talk of one, two, three, four, five and six made me miss it! You gonna owe me a hunnert million when they hit!”
I’d like to say that one through six hit, or our latecomer’s numbers, in a cruel twist, but no, it was two, three, four, five, six and seven. The lone winner picked her lucky numbers.
I like the subtlety here of luck versus fate, that whichever man believes in is what makes him a loser–or winner–in life.
EXACTLY what Susan said. Liked this a lot. Peace…
Nice.
thanks for this one. it made me remember the math-classes in school, where we tried to get a grasp of the systematics of chance.
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