Picking the Winner

October 27, 2009
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The snow covered the stony ground in Boston, as Jack Rein walked through the twilight. He had decided to treat himself to dinner at one of his favorite restaurant, not knowing that it would change his life. After floundering financially for the past six months, he had finally managed to get his head above water, at least for a little while.

The biting wind stung his face. He walked faster, wanting to get to the warm little restaurant as soon as possible. Nobody was on the streets just then; nor was anybody in the Chinese restaurant. Everybody seemed to have taken cover in their warm houses that night; well in Jack’s favor, for if someone else had been their, it would have been them whose luck was changed, and no one was more deserving of a turn of luck than Jack Rein.

He sat down at a table in the corner, and ordered his usual dinner; or at least what had been his usual dinner, when going there had been routine. As usual, a fortune cookie came with his meal. Jack completely ignored it and started eating. He never believed much in fortune. Actually, he didn’t care for it at all. There had been no fortune for him anyway.

He ate his meal slowly, savoring the food and letting the warmth spread through his body. Eventually through, he finished his meal, and got up to leave. Then, at the last moment, his eyes tailored off to the cookie. Why not, he thought to himself, opening it. Inside the paper read: “Your ability to pick a winner will bring you success.”

“Well,” he said to himself, disgusted, “That was a waste of time.”

He walked toward home, thinking how idiotic the fortune had been. Pick a winner? Hah! He couldn’t even pay his debts off. Then, he stopped, and stared dumbly at the building of the corner. It was then that he understood the fortune. He ran toward the track, feeling in his pockets for money. If he could just win a couple races, just a few-

There were only several people in the betting terminal when he ran in. He looked around and then said to one of the gentlemen there:

“When’s the next race?”

“In about five minutes.” The man said, looking at his watch.

“Who’s running?”

The man stared at him, then said: “Timing Belt, Red Comet, Blue bird Jet…”

“What are the odds on Timing Belt?”

“About 20 to one,” the man shook his head, “He’s a waste of time son.”

I don’t think so, he thought, as he put all his money (about 200 dollars worth) on Timing Belt to win.

He watched as the horses left the gate, and rushed down the straight away. As Timing Belt, broke out in front, leading down the homestretch. As Timing Belt lead to the wire, and won.

It hit him then, what he had won. He had won 4000 dollars.

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