On our recent vacation to Fort Lauderdale, I did some swimming and scanning of the ocean floor for interesting objects. Besides the seaweed, coral rocks, palm-tree leaves and broken shells, I found another object lying on top of the sand and beneath the surf. It was a Florida Lotto ticket, sitting open and displaying its message of hope. Gently, I scooped my hand under the ticket so as not to rip it and lifted it out of the ocean. I walked it back to the beach and laid it out to dry on my skimboard (which I didn't get to use...there's not much surf at Ft. Lauderdale). The drawing date on the ticket was the 16th of Aug, and it was only the 15th. Whoever had lost the ticket was probably looking for it now. Unfortunately for them, they hadn't signed the ticket when they bough it. As Daffy Duck would say: "Mine! Mine! It's all MINE!"
So, here I sit on the 17th of Aug, in a Ramada Motel in South Carolina, heading back up the eastern seaboard. With a single matching number on the lotto ticket, it's much less of a story now. The free breakfast was no big shakes, either, though better than a punch in the nose. The lobby of this particular Ramada was, like that Lotto ticket, so full of promise yesterday. I walked into their beautiful lobby with two descending curved staircases and gorgeously appointed furnishings. There is a huge chandelier dropped between them, leading to a marble counter and large reception area. A promise of a free hot breakfast made the deal complete. However, just like the Lotto ticket, that promise collapsed when we finally saw where we'd be staying. The lobby building is built to hide the motel from the road, perhaps purposefully so. The room door had remnants of spray paint. The door lock, while operational, wasn't trustworthy. It's a good thing there was a second one ;) Also like the Lotto ticket, it wasn't the worst I'd ever had. The room was clean and everything apparently works.
Dissapointment isn't necessarily something you can complain about.