Getting Lucky

CHAPTER 1: LADY LUCK

I hate people. I don’t mean certain people in particular, I mean people in general. Five years living on the streets will do that to you. When you’ve begged away your dignity and grown accustomed to the looks of pity, you start detesting the very people that are trying to help you. I hate the ones that give me money and I hate the ones that don’t. It no longer matters, I decided long ago that I would never go back to begging. I’ve discovered much more effective means of parting people with their money.

The gentleman standing opposite me looks just as desperate as I am, despite his designer suit. I see that same look every day on the punters that stop at my makeshift card table. If I had to guess he’s probably behind on his mortgage, his car payments and his credit cards. We share a certain type of desperation, the big difference is that he still has a lot to lose, even if he doesn’t realise it. I’m helping him out by making sure he has a little less to lose when he goes home tonight. 

He waits for my hands to stop moving and points at the card on the right hand side, “That’s the Queen, for sure this time.” He reeks of booze, which isn’t helping my concentration. I promise myself a drink as soon as I’ve finished lightening his wallet.

He’s completely wrong with his card choice, but it’s too early to let him know that. I want him to think I’m on his side, both of us fighting together against fate and misfortune, “Are you absolutely certain sir? Once I flip it over you’re committed.”

He pauses just long enough to let me know he isn’t sure at all. He glances over to the middle card, “You know maybe it’s the middle one. It was the middle one the last two times.” 

I smile my best smile. It is an excellent smile, it has to be to keep me in business. I reach for his new choice, “Ok, I’ll flip this one over then.” 

He picks up on my enthusiasm, “No don’t, I’m going to stay with my original card. I’m certain.”

I flip the right hand card over before he can change his mind again. The Joker stares back at us and I mimic surprise and disappointment. I prove the integrity of the game by flipping over the other two cards. The Queen sits proudly in the middle of the table. The punter exhales loudly before exclaiming, “I knew I should have gone with the middle card! I’ll have one more go.” He throws another five pound note on the table as I pocket the previous one.

I should feel bad for taking his money but I sold my conscience a long time ago, along with everything else I owned. I give him another smile, “Of course, you were so close that time, Lady Luck is on your side, I can feel it!”  

After a couple more failed attempts he gives up and skulks off, no doubt towards home to explain to his wife why they won’t be food shopping tomorrow. There’s no-one else waiting to play so I take the opportunity to pack up. I’ve learned the hard way to quit whilst I’m ahead, preferably before an angry punter kicks my teeth in. I hide the table in its usual spot between the rubbish bins and head for my luxury apartment. I’m sure right now you’re probably imagining a swanky penthouse suite somewhere fancy like Covent Garden. Well you’re right about the location, but not so much about the penthouse. The alleyway I call home is directly below a penthouse, but that’s as close as it gets. Don’t get me wrong, it’s top notch accommodation. There’s an overhang so I don’t get too wet when it rains, it’s a dead end so I don’t get many passers-by tripping over my stuff and it’s not too close to any pubs so I rarely get pissed on. All in all that makes it five stars in my book. 

As I round the corner for home a large shape looms out of the shadows and grabs me by the scruff of my coat. It’s my nicest coat, the one I wear for ‘work’, so I’m more concerned for the coats wellbeing than my own. I don’t need to look to know who’s grabbing me, “Hey Jimmy.”