MR WRONG: Holding the bag
Indignity Vol. 5, No. 158
COLUMN DEP’T.
MR WRONG: America Can Make a Billion-Dollar Jackpot but It Can't Make a Grocery Sack That Works
I WENT TO the supermarket the other day, the grocery store, to pick up a few things, and I forgot to bring a reusable eco-friendly, kind to trees, good for the Earth, conservationist, did I say reusable? bag. Anyway, I really just went to buy a Powerball ticket, though, have you seen this wild Powerball jackpot? One point seven billion US dollars as of this minute in typing today’s column!
Seriously, what the actual fuck! Shouldn’t this be illegal or something? There’s wars, people are starving! This country has enough collective extra dough for gambling that they have dropped enough to cover a $1,700,000,000 and no cents payout! Also that is $770,300,000 “cash value, a/k/a “lump sum,” which I like better, because it makes me think “like it or lump it,” but really who’s gonna think they are “lumping” when they only get $770,300,000 for their $2 investment. Yeah, I know, the lottery is “the Fools Tax,” and there are people out there putting their whole fucking paycheck into a shot at that bag, and the odds are less likely than getting hit by lightning twice, etc., blah blah! Nobody cares! It’s gambling!
Personally, I am a low-stakes wagerer, and I buy one ticket, and YEAH I KNOW, there are many weeks of me buying one ticket and that cash is now in somebody else’s pocket!
Here’s my previous loser, two bucks, American.
It was two bucks, c’mon, and I got to Dream a little, you know? Not like the Dream of taking two bucks and putting it into the bank to get Compounded Interest over 20 years, man, nah, I am talking the Big Dream! Big Bucks! No Whammies! Eff-to-the-YOU money! It’s fun to Dream.
Anyway, back to my waking Reality, which was I went to the grocery store to get a Powerball and maybe some yogurt, because I am on a Health kick and a lotta the recipes for healthy smoothies, with like, avocado, and mango, and strawberries, and peanut butter and quinoa, they call for some yogurt, and I am just learning to make smoothies, and they still come out a little thick, so I gotta add more liquid. Anyway, yeah, Powerball ticket and some yogurt, Greek vanilla-flavored, if you care to know, and I got the yogurt and I also saw that there was romaine lettuce on sale, so I got that for salad time, which my wife is in charge of. We have a good division of labor, she is a pro at salads and preparing vegetables, and baking, and making coffee in the coffee machine so that it doesn’t overflow out of the top and/or taste like a brown crayon stirred into some hot water, which are my crimes, and then I am good at making macaroni and frying eggs and making omelettes outta eggs and making frittatas outta eggs and making deviled (eggs). Also I am good on the grill with various meats and also stuff like zucchini and asparagus, man, you get one of those ceramic things for the grill and then throw some olive-oiled, seasoned vegetables on there, holy wow.
If I won the Powerball, I would still grill my own foods, I would do smoking of meats and fishes and poultry and stuff, take all day, have a coupla beers, good times.
Okay, I was Dreaming! That’s a super modest Dream, I know, but I’m fine with it, the one thing about the Lottery Windfall is you run a really good chance of going broke because all of a sudden you are everybody’s friend and people need an operation because Health Care stinks, and somebody has a good idea for a Business, which is always funny, that somebody like me, the Powerball winner version of me, who has One Point Seven Billion (Seven Hundred Million and change, no offense) on their Balance Sheet is gonna want to invest in Business. No investing! I’m rich, American Dream!
I veered into negativity, apologies. I grabbed the yogurt, and the romaine lettuce, and I saw a novel brand of potato chips, Golden Flake, which I never ate, so I grabbed a bag (would not re-purchase), and also I got a nice loaf of bread, the heavy kind with the grains in it, makes excellent toast. It’s the kinda bread that is worth six bucks, not squooshy and soft, this bread has character!
So I get those items and I walk over to the Lottery machine and the Customer Service, and of course there’s a big line of people at both, because it is a shared Dream, the Powerball, so I skipped getting the ticket and paid for my groceries (I got the ticket later when I was buying beer that I probably wouldn’t have bought that day except for I was in the liquor store to buy a Powerball, so it was an Impulse Purchase, but would re-purchase!), and while I was scanning my grocery barcodes at the self-serve scanner, I hadda cop to using a paper bag for my purchase, and so I got dinged for five cents, which, the fucking bag I got turned out to be worth zero cents, because as soon as I got home and grabbed the bag outta my car, it fucking ripped and my groceries hit the pavement. From now on, if I have to use a paper bag, I am double-bagging and paying for one fucking bag, and I’ll see you fuckers in court if you try and stop me. I have evidence.
Seriously though, speaking of evidence, if I won the Powerball, I would buy that Epstein Island and get a Forensics Team going, just saying.
The MR. WRONG COLUMN is a general-interest column appearing weekly. No refunds. Write Wrong: wrongcolumn@gmail.com.
SIDE PIECES DEP'T.
Leila Brillson
AT FLAMING HYDRA, Joe participated in the latest rousing session of the spoiler-laced Alien: Earth recapathon.
WEATHER REVIEWS
New York City, September 3, 2025
★★★★ The warmth had crept up just a bit. Cherries in the Park were a dusty red, heading toward ripeness. The Pool was so low that the exposed mudflat nearly reached the first of the offshore rocks. A redstart hopped around on the flat, fanning her tail to show the twin yellow patches there. Two turtles, plastered with rough coatings of duckweed, perched on the further rocks, at the edge of the spiky, broken shade of an overhanging oak. The crabapples were no larger than the cherries, if that. By the footbridge, a few overeager leaves fell in the water, and a dragonfly caught so much sun it looked like a small bird. More leaves fell on the uphill path, where feet were already grinding them to dust.
EASY LISTENING DEP'T.
HERE IS TODAY'S Indignity Morning Podcast!
Tom Scocca
Here is the Indignity Morning Podcast archive!
TOM SCOCCA
ADVICE DEP'T.
HEY! DO YOU like advice columns? They don't happen unless you send in some letters! Surely you have something you want to justify to yourself, or to the world at large. Now is the perfect time to share it with everyone else through The Sophist, the columnist who is not here to correct you, but to tell you why you're right. Direct your questions to The Sophist, at indignity@indignity.net, and get the answers you want.
SANDWICH RECIPES DEP'T.
WE PRESENT INSTRUCTIONS in aid of the assembly of sandwiches selected from À la Mode Cookery : Up-to-Date Recipes, by Harriet Anne De Salis, published in 1902 and available at archive.org for the delectation of all.
Caviare Sandwiches
Take two tablespoonfuls of caviare, place it in a basin, mix it with some finely chopped shalot, the juice of half a lemon, and a pinch of cayenne pepper; stir these thoroughly together. Butter some thin slices of brown bread, spread with the above mixture, pressing them together sandwich-fashion; cut them into three-cornered pieces and serve as a hors d’oeuvre.
If you decide to prepare and attempt to enjoy a sandwich inspired by this offering, be sure to send a picture to indignity@indignity.net .
SELF-SERVING SELF-PROMOTION DEP'T.
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