So here we are in Los Angeles a place full of crazy people. OK, I had better rewrite that and say “crazy person.”………her name is Angela. She is 33 years old and according the news here she won $22 million in the state lottery………….and she is nuts.
She has returned to her job as a $10-an-hour diner waitress serving greasy food to factory workers, and her congratulatory bottle of champagne remains unopened in her refrigerator. “I’m not going to go out and spend it just for the sake of it,” she said. “I never had money before and don’t want to waste it.”
Oh, for God’s sake. This kind of talk isn’t going to put any lead in the economy’s floppy pencil, is it? If new millionaires can’t be persuaded to crack open their wallets then who the hell can? It’s pathetic: we expect better from our lottery winners. We want to see them living the dream – buying quad bikes, mansions, white leather sofas and having neck-to-buttock tattoos of a tiger caressing a naked Latvian woman. We don’t want them schlepping around on a bus to the everything’s a dollar store. But they continually let us down.
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