My storytelling well runs dry

Woman holding up large cheque of her lottery winnings, fist pump in the air.

Sadly, this not my dear friend, Triple D.

Daily posting is just too much for me. I was exhausted from having to generate so many witticisms in such a short time. Hence yesterday’s break.

Today, since I’ve run out of my own material–or at least material that does not touch on this week’s forbidden theme–I’m stealing a story from a dear friend. I realize I may start losing coffee dates for fear of what might show up on my blog, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

You may recall Triple D, so named not because her womanly parts enter a room before the rest of her but because her parents stuck her with those tease-worthy initials. Triple D (hereafter 3D) is one of those lovely neighbours we met through our dogs. She has become our beloved dogsitter–no, you still can’t have her number, even though we haven’t been able to book her much lately–and our very dear friend. She and her partner, R., have bailed us out many a time with dog care when we have been otherwise indisposed. We are indebted to them both.

Triple D is smart and funny and, some days, absolutely exhausting because, like any Maritimer, she talks nonstop. I love her for constantly setting new goals for herself and striving to meet them. In fact, she has almost mastered her New Year’s intention to check her email daily, so she may discover this post before next November. J. and I know that if we can get a word in edgewise, 3D will drop anything and everything to help us.

To fully capture 3D in 3D, I will share one of my favourite stories about her first venture into the world of lottery. 3D is very careful with her funds and does not pay this “tax on the stupid”, as one of our friends calls it. The week of a particularly high jackpot, however, she decided to get in on the action. She went to the kiosk, carefully selected her favourite numbers–no Quik Piks for this gal–and brought them to the clerk. Then she asked for three tickets with this same set of special numbers.

Can you identify the logical flaw here? Of course J. did immediately, but I didn’t at first. I trust you will understand, as the clerk did. She looked askew at 3D and seemed resistant to selling her the tickets. Then she said snottily: “You’re sure you want three tickets with the same numbers?” Poor naive 3D did not understand why the clerk was being hostile with her. In fact, 3D responded just as haughtily, insisting on three identical tickets. At no point did it occur to 3D that maybe the clerk’s hostile question was intended as valuable feedback.

Where’s that eureka when we need it?

So 3D threw her money away on three identical tickets and went home to tell the story. R., in her wisdom, knew immediately why the clerk had been hesitant. She explained to her beloved 3D that, by buying three of the same tickets, she was not increasing her chances of winning the jackpot.

When we first heard the story, J. rescued 3D by noting that in the event of 4 or more jackpot winners, 3D would be awfully glad she owned three of those tickets. Oh, that J. is my problem-solving idol! But no, 3D did not have a chance to benefit from J.’s reasoning. Not one of her tickets won a dime.

What is the moral of this story? Some mistakes you only make once. Remember those expired passports?

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