Roman Grapes

Sitting on the stoop of the marble steps outside of the bank, Paul's mind stood still at 1000 miles an hour.

Everything suddenly changed in an instant as he slid his hand into his pocket, feeling the slip of paper from

the financial institution he had just left and remarking again in his own mind that ‘yes this was real’ and ‘yes, he did have the winning numbers’. His mind humored him with the slight absurdity of the situation. Give a paper with a sequence of numbers, Get a cash reward. Like a random logarithmic bounty hunt where every

number could be the big winner, until only one is certain to be the winner. His hands pinched the corner of

the paper slip as he pulled it out of his pocket, unrolling and uncrumpling it with his pants before reading the

small printed account statement.

“Paul McKay, Checking account ending in…3870 remainder balance 465,000,000.00”

His head spun again as he read the words which refused to change, in his mind Refused it was as if the page

and the numbers on it had all colluded not to drop their cruel ruse against him. To continue to let him live this

cruel mocking daydream, before some “syntax error” or “rounding flaw” took it all away again, like it had

always happened to him before. Paul laid back on the steps, looking up at the clouds and allowing his eyes to

experience the vertigo as they trailed their way up the monolithic building. Paul stood up off of the ground,

dusting off his canvas jacket as he stared into the glass doors he had just left, thinking to at least play out this daydream while it lasts, rather than sit in its disbelief until it falls through his fingers. He walked inside and immediately up to the attendant which he had just opened the account with. The small bubbly woman made eye contact as she smiled sincerely at Paul.

“Oh Mister McKay, is there something else we could assist you with?”

‘Mister McKay’ Paul had always been Paulie or Mickey on every job he worked, at least the ones where they bothered to learn his name. When he wasn't just picked from being pointed at in a lineup and told to hop onto the back of a truck and go out to a jobsite. Paul allowed his posture to straighten and his eyes to open more wide, confident and clear as he spoke to the Bank Clerk, adding the vibrato to his voice he felt ‘Mister McKay’ would exude.

“Yes, hello again, You were so, so helpful last time I was wondering…”

His mind stopped as he froze not knowing what to say next, this bank was different from the ones he dealt in before, sitting in a crowd which had been waiting in a long line, to speak through a small metal grate in a wire glass booth who would speak back to you over a half broken intercom. This bank had desks, leather chairs with arms and wheels, and carpet. His mind composed itself as he finally spoke, deciding to make the most of his absurdity.

“Would I be able to make a withdrawal of 10,000$”

Paul's mind barely fathomed that he himself said these words in a bank rather than hearing them. And his mind became shocked again when the small clerk didn't flinch or miss a beat as she began typing into her terminal to get to his account, and he had to fight every urge to burst out laughing when the attendant turned her screen around, showing his exact account, and the big ‘465’ staring back at him with their cohort of zeroes following behind as the attendant spoke.

“Branch policy only allows for Maximum withdrawals of 2,500$ Cash at a time, is this alright for you, Mister McKay?”

His mind froze again, she had to be enjoying every moment of this. A man who used to be Down-and-out now making withdrawals at a high end bank, still wearing his working man's jacket. He balled his fists and stuffed them back into his pocket and leaned back.

“Yeah, Yeah that should be fine…”

The teller smiled sincerely as she gave him his money, an amount that felt heavy in his hands to hold as he folded the bills neatly into his wallet. Walking back out of the bank he nearly felt the same call to sit him back in his same spot on the steps and contemplate but instead chose to quickly descend them to the street and flag down a cab. As he waved his arms a bearded cabbie pulled over and popped its door for him. He sat inside glancing at the small info sheet on the divider between driver and farer, his driver's name was Armahnd. Paul's eyes glanced from the name to the eyes staring at him through the rearview.

“Hello Sir, where to?”

Paul's eyes met Armand’s as he smirked slightly looking at him and seeing a man much like himself. A man living a life without means, without luxury. His mind exploded with possibilities, Roman grapes taste sweetest when you have someone else to compare their flavor with. A large smile creeped across his face.

“Armahnd? Can I call you Armahnd?”

“Y..Yes sir? I am Armahnd.”

“How would you like to earn the biggest fare of your life and only drive for one part of it?”

“Sir? I don’t understand.”

“You know the fancy Resort, opposite side of town?”

“Hotel and Casino Resort?”

“The very same.”

“Yes Sir, we’ll get there.”

Armahnd said, a nervous smile forming on his face as he kept trading nervous unsure glances with the man in his back seat cab. With each unsure glance Paul only became more and more sure about his decision as they drove their way to the Resort. Upon arrival Paul looked at Armahnd smiling wide and confident as his hand reached into his wallet and he made Armahnd a proposition.

“How would you like to leave the meter running, take this 1300$ and come inside with me spending our day having fun in a way I feel we've both never gotten to. Doesn’t just have to be gambling either, you want to eat at the restaurant? Do you want a 1000$ suite? The world is mine, and for today my friend, the world is ours. What do you say?”

Armahnd looked down hesitantly at the stack of cash in Paul’s hand as he traded one last glance with the man, grabbing the stack of bills and following him inside. Tables, slots, machines, rollers, chips, cards, dice, as far as the eye could see, and they played all of it. Laughing, enjoying the life they never could get or have, eating the most expensive meals, drinking the most coveted drinks. All while feeling completely free. Paul took a small leave out to the terrace in his penthouse suite in between rounds of gambling, him and Armahnd had traded numbers and he had sent him several selfies from the casino floor, smiling and enjoying all the finest things. Paul smiled as he took a swig from his martini as his phone began to buzz harshly, his eyes darted down to the display as he read a number he didn't recognize, picking up the phone and answering.

“hello?”

“Yes, hello I’m calling on behalf of The Lottery Agency, is this Paulie McKay I’m speaking to?”

“Yes…”

“Oh ok good, so glad we could get a hold of you, we actually need to speak with you regarding an error with

your winnings.”

The End.