No, I did not set off fireworks in the backyard, and no, I did not steal any jewelery...I bought my very first lottery ticket. And given that I have been working at a Tattersall’s (lottery) store for the past sixteen months, you, dear reader, are now probably either very confused, laughing, or both.
Gambling’s never really been my thing. Ok, that’s an understatement. With the exception of my experiment, I have never bought a lottery ticket or scratchie, placed a bet on a horse or even dropped a coin into a poker machine.
Why not? Well, I simply don’t believe in luck. I’m a control freak, remember? So I certainly don’t like depending on something I have no control over whatsoever. Plus, working in a lottery store has not only shown me the mathematical figures on the probability (or more appropriately, improbability) of winning the games, but also the enormous amount of money people waste on gambling – day after day, week after week, year after year. Now, it doesn’t take a genius to work out that the money saved from all these tickets would easily add up to winning a jackpot!
But money isn’t the only thing I’m afraid of losing from gambling; I’m also scared for my sanity...
You see, back in Year 10, our class took part in the ASX share market game. We were each given a hypothetical $50,000 to invest, and over a couple of months, bought shares and received dividends to simulate real stock exchange. As expected, we learned the history of stock exchange, the process of buying and selling shares and the definition of a blue chip company. But what I had not anticipated was the obsession and paranoia that accompanied the game. Often, I would obsess over tiny rises and falls in the market until I was checking my shares almost every ten minutes. And it wasn’t even real money! Ok, so I was a little more obsessive-compulsive than most, but the game highlighted for me, personally, the dangers of gambling – not only on the hip pocket, but also on the mind.
Of course, the lottery companies understand this. They sell cards to “help” customers store their weekly favourite numbers, and consequently, fall into the habit of gambling. There are many who have played the same games for decades – spending anything from $10 to $2000 a week – without winning substantial prizes. Why? All because they cannot stand the thought of missing out on the one draw where their numbers might pop up. It’s an addiction.
So, in an attempt to understand this feeling and compare it to my stock exchange experience, I picked up a pen and carefully filled in a coupon with my favourite seven numbers. The screen flashed, the printer whirred, and there it was: my potential $10 million ticket. Yup, and then that feeling: the heady mix of growing anticipation, impatience and lust. Even though I knew the maths, I couldn’t help but think of the possibilities of a seven figure bank account.
Of course, I didn’t win. Yet after the results came out, sure enough, I thought to myself: “but what if my numbers come up next week?”
Scary, huh? Well, it sure scared me.
But I haven’t bought a ticket since, and I don’t plan to anytime soon. It is not any industry I would choose to work in – but money is money for a uni student – and definitely not one I would choose to donate to.
No, I am saving my money and my mind.
