By Urban Anomie
On Monday when Calgarians heard that a fellow citizen had won $40 million in last May’s Lotto Max, they congratulated the man, then promptly branded him a fucker.
After all, any person holding a winning lottery ticket who isn’t you obviously deserves such a crude title, for no reason other than they aren’t you. From that 84-year old witch in Halifax who won a half million dollars in bingo, to that pretentious shit that claimed the 50/50 prize at last week’s Flames game: they’re all fuckers.
But when Tom Crist of Calgary announced he was donating the entirety of his $40 million winnings to charity, many in the community decided he wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
Jennifer Webb says she changed her mind after hearing Crist speak during a radio interview.
“He lost his wife to cancer, and now the generous soul is setting up a trust fund in her name,” said Webb. “I was in tears when I heard the news, and said to my husband who was driving, ‘wow, I take everything back about [Crist] being a douchebag.’”
Upon hearing that the Calgary man who claimed the winning prize was donating his winnings, convenience store owner, Trevor McClannahan, went from hoping the lottery winnings ruined Crist’s life, to inspiring him to lower the price of 1 litre of expired milk from $8.98 to $4.29.
“It just goes to show that the spirit of generosity thrives in Calgary,” says McClannahan. And at Gold Groceries, you can always count on low, low prices.”
Dr. Lawrence Peterson, a sociology professor at the University of Calgary, says people get a bit cranky when they’re reminded that they have to go back to work the next day.
“We live in a society that revolves around money,” says Peterson.
“Without money, you don’t eat. Without money, you don’t travel, or have fun, or are able to afford the latest iPhone. And in order to earn money, most of us have to put up with the endless stupidity that is bred in the ranks of middle management.
“Then when one of us ascends to freedom from this life by mere chance, feelings of jealous range take over. Like when my gold-digging ex-wife married that wanker of a plastic surgeon with his spray-on tan and shirt that’s always one size too small, while I grade papers by idealistic students hell bent on changing the world by saving the whales and eating gluten free, quinoa-fed chickens, just so I can afford my one-bedroom apartment with a broken toilet.”