The lottery has never tossed a jackpot my way because I don’t seem to get around to buying a ticket.
I have no idea how to bet on a horse race, so I didn’t have to pay close attention to the Belmont Stakes.
One of these days, though, I’m going to find $10,000 in a hotel room like that kid did in Missouri.
You probably read that story late last month in our newspaper. A 10-year-old boy staying with his dad in a Kansas City hotel went through all the drawers in their room and came across a stack of bills. They turned the 10 grand over to the police, as we all would have done.
Maybe you wouldn’t have thought of even looking for treasure in a hotel, but I would. That’s the first thing I do after checking in.
You never know when the previous guests have been too hurried to pack up their cash, or old book, or diamonds, or that Picasso they just bought at an auction.
Not that I would keep any of that stuff, of course, but maybe they’d offer a reward. What’s the going rate for a reward on a Picasso these days?
My wife just rolls her eyes when I conduct my scavenger hunt in all the dresser drawers and the closet and the safe and even the refrigerator. With good reason, probably, because the results haven’t been overwhelming so far.
I found 11 cents recently and, years ago, a bottle of Valium in the kitchen cabinet of a motel in Florida.
Not that I would take somebody else’s medication. You know, considering it was Florida, I’m surprised it was prescription drugs. They have so much more to choose from down there.
I usually find a Gideon’s Bible in the night stand, and a note pad and ink pen, but that’s pretty much it. On our most recent stay away from home, the room had two telephones next to each other. I left them both when we checked out.
Not long ago, a room we stayed in had one of those yellow “estimated yearly energy cost” stickers on the television set. It said similar models of that TV cost $18 a year. I’m not sure why they thought anyone needed that information; maybe some hotel guests like to buy similar TVs and screw them down to a table at home.
After all my rummaging, I like to straighten up the room for the chambermaid. I don’t want her to think I’m messy, although I am. And I’m sure to tip, because I know how much I hate to make up my own bed, so I empathize with her.
I’m the same way in restaurants. I like to wad up all the napkins and put them on my plate with the silverware, or else bus the table myself. And I overtip.
My wife is of the opposite view: She doesn’t mind leaving the bed unmade and the table a mess. That’s understandable, because she has done enough chambermaid/waitress duty at our house.
I’m so busy in hotel rooms looking for things that one of these days I’m sure to leave something behind when I check out. It probably won’t be a Picasso.