August 7, 2015




I'm not a religious person, as you can tell. I have some serious doubts there is a god, or gods, and I definitely don't believe there a demon, or fallen angel or whatever, trying to lead souls astray simply to increase his, or hers, tally count. However, I leaned against my car while the gas pumped just staring at that lotto ticket. If she had introduced herself and then asked I probably would have just laughed at her. Nope, still not religious, but I like to hedge my bets. I don't really believe there is a heaven or hell, but I'm not going on promiscuous fling or murderous rampage because I don't believe there are any otherworldly repercussions. Living with a conscious is much scarier than any deity so I live a good life, for the most part, and hope that if I am wrong about God that I'll be let off easy for good behavior. I bet that doesn't work if you've already promised you soul to other side.

I went to work where the evening went fast enough. People demanded refills and let me know when I was not fast enough because, you know, they were the only ones in the restaurant on a Saturday night. I dealt with the drunk slapping my ass with a cool head and calm tone. I even made a few decent tips that averaged out the ones that tipped after the BOGO discount. I almost made a living wage. For a single person. In China.

I spent much of the time between runs to the kitchen contemplating that ticket in my back pocket. I was beginning to fear to it would win. Did I just give my soul away for piles of green paper? Then again, piles of green paper could be a lot of fun. I still had a full life ahead of me. But eternity was longer. I considered giving the ticket away. Sure, someone else may win but I would have my soul, right? Or would I simply be delaying the inevitable and have kismet work against me? I could see a friend buying me a bunch of tickets for my birthday or perhaps finding a ticket on the side walk and placing it absentmindedly in my pocket. If I had sold my soul to the devil for a winning lottery ticket I was doomed. At some point I was bound to win. May as well have the piles of green sooner rather than later, right? Or had I made an agreement that this ticket would win? If I gave it some random person they woould have piles of cash while I was still a broke, starving student-slash-waitress with no soul. But Satan did not exist! There was no way that slutty looking woman in a gas station had the power to make a those six numbers match tonight. And damn her anyway. I was supposed to be daydreaming about wonderful things I could do with great mounds of cash, not worrying I may actually have them. I was giving myself a headache.

Towards the end of the evening a customer generously left behind a religious tract instead of a tip, because finding Jesus was so much better than things like electricity or food, but today I wondered if it was sign. Was it too late for salvation? Could my soul be saved from a demonic rave girl? Or was it a slap in the face of my doomed future? Most likely it was someone who doesn't understand I make a $2.75 an hour. I crumpled it and threw it in the trash but doubt still sat heavily on my mind.




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