I recently ended what had been nearly a yearlong boycott of a gas station/convenience store in my neighborhood.  I’d gone into the store with a small stack of winning scratch-off lottery tickets that I’d gotten at the Kanawha/Charleston Humane Association‘s Fur Ball silent auction.  The clerk was very friendly – and extremely chatty – as she scanned in the tickets several feet away from me.  When she totaled my winnings, a $10 ticket was missing.  She looked around behind the counter and found nothing, suggesting that I had perhaps dropped it or misplaced it.  Having not counted the tickets before entering the store myself, I assumed she was correct; I could’ve misplaced it.  I left the store, ten dollars shy of my expected prize.

 

I never found the missing ticket.  I purposefully avoided that store, having convinced myself that the clerk kept my ticket for herself, until recently when a coffee craving lured me into the parking lot before I could stop myself.  She wasn’t there.  I had an extra buck so I bought a scratch-off ticket and won $2. 

 

Maybe I’ll keep doing that.  Perhaps I’ll get my money back after all.