|  Bob Batz Read Bob's bio and previous columns
June 12, 2009
I’ve Won the Nationale (cq)
Postcode Lottery! I’m Rich!
After years of scrimping and saving to make ends meet, I’m finally a rich
man. Well, almost a rich man, anyway.
Last week I won $1 million in the Nationale (cq)Postcode Lottery that was
held in Amsterdam, The Netherlands.
Yup, a cool mil! A chunk of change! Big buckaroos!
I found out about my sudden windfall in an e-mail from a woman who
identified herself as Mrs. Victoria Wolfgang, public relations officer for
the Nationale (cq)Postcode Lottery.
Victoria . . . I mean Mrs. Wolfgang . . . even told me my
10-digit winning lottery number. Then she added “Please contact our payment
director immediately” and she even provided the payment director’s name and
telephone number.
Is that neat or what? I mean, I didn’t even enter that
lottery and I’ve won the big prize. In fact, I’m not even sure where The
Netherlands is. Or should I say “are?”
As soon as I received my e-mail from the lottery folks, I telephoned my
first wife Sally at work.
“Hi,” I said. “I just did something I’ve never done before. Try to guess
what it was.”
After a moment of silence, she said, “You picked up your dirty clothes off
the closet floor and put them in the washer?“
“Nope,” I said. “I, Robert Alan Michael Batz, a Flint,
Michigan native and an all-around pretty darned nice guy has just won a
million dollars in the lottery.”
Twenty minutes later after Sally stopped laughing, she said,
“What lottery?”
I told her the details, then I said, “What do you think we should do with
our sudden windfall? I’m thinking maybe we could . . .”
“Whoa!” Sally said, interrupting my stirring soliloquy. “You
don’t actually believe you’ve won a million dollars in a lottery you didn’t
even enter, do you?”
I wasn’t about to let her discourage me, so I spent the next
30 minutes ticking off the names of the items I’m going to buy with my share
of the million dollars.
“I’ll get me a red BMW convertible”, I told her, “and a condo
on the beach in Key West and . . .”
“Hey, Mister Big Bucks,“ she said before hanging up,
“After you finish mapping out our financial future, please grab your dirty
clothes off the closet floor and toss them in the washer, OK?”
Contact Bob at
bbatz@woh.rr.com
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