My wife loves to play the lottery, although I don’t know how much playing is involved in a game where one person gives another money and are given a scrap of garbage in return. In my life, I think the most I’ve ever won by gambling is $40, which brought my total winnings up to -$869. Whether it’s a card table, slot machines, Mega Millions, or just scratchers, I don’t really know when I should stop, and wind up losing money that I cannot afford to lose. That is why I generally don’t have anything to do with games of chance, as I’ve learned that I like eating, and not being homeless, as my waistline and collection of domestic crap can easily attest. We still play the lottery occasionally, but I’ve accepted that I’ll never have a chance to win, and that I’m paying a couple dollars to spend the evening fantasizing about all the things which I would do if money were no object. Framed like that, it’s not truly that much worse than a glass of Scotch right after work, and as long as it’s not every day, I feel that it’s okay.

So what would I do if I had millions of dollars to play around with?

I’d like to build a house that had all the amenities that I’ve gone without since I began living in apartments. I’d need a private theater, with a giant screen and surround sound, with hookups for every gaming system ever made (which I would purchase for myself as well), a Blu-Ray player (with internet video streaming apps, of course), and a V.C.R., because I still have some videos that I’d like to watch that were never converted to the next technological level. And I’d make it so that the screen could retract, and I could put on various stage plays when I felt the need to watch something written by Romulus Linney, or pay musicians to come and perform a private concert for me (Does anyone know the number for Apocalyptica’s agent? They put on a hell of a good show). I’d let Bad Leon Suave help design the fly loft and the rigging, while Fed could lend his expertise for the light booth and the sound board.

The kitchen would be, in a word, magnificent. I’d commission a commercial setup, with yards and yards of counter space, a couple ovens (one regular/convection, and the other a double deck Baker’s Pride), high-end food processors and slicers. I’d put in a little butcher shop-style alcove, where I could prepare my cuts of bison, or just go to hang out somewhere cool and play with knives in the sweltering days of summer, and be connected by a little door leading into the walk-in freezer, which will measure at least fifty feet by fifty. Next to the freezer, would stand my walk-in fridge, with gleaming, clearly labeled Metro shelving, with a chilled preparation area for anything that might require it. A bodega would replace the need for a walk-in pantry, and be filled with not only all my stocks of dry goods and sturdy shelving, but be lined with hooks and cabinets containing every pot and pan that I might ever need (and yet I think I’d still find that my wife had filled both ovens to capacity with various odds and ends). And I think I’d need some sort of window garden, scaled up, obviously, to provide my with fresh herbs throughout the year.

I’m sorry, but I’m actually really excited about this… I’d need at least four deep fryers (to keep the flavors separate), a flat grill at least a meter long, a triple range with gas and electric options, as well as that cool new thing they have that works with a special kind of pot or pan, that only heats up using those, and is otherwise cool to the touch. I have no idea how they do that, but I think that I would like a set. Maybe I should get a clamshell grill (for those times that I absolutely must have a burger sometime in the next two minutes, and barbecue, and… dare I dream it… a fire pit beneath a spit.

I’d give my wife three bedroom-sized storage and presentation areas (the word closet will in no way suffice) for all her shoes and clothes and purses, with a display case for her jewelry in the vestibule which would connect through private door into her side of the master bedroom. On my side would be the door into our master bath. Its main features would include a sunken tub, a shower, and jacuzzi, with not only a toilet (with heated seat), but a urinal as well. What the heck, we might as well throw in a bidet.

My office would be in the basement, where I could write in peace, free from the distractions of the outside world. I’d line the walls with bookcases, and my desk would hold not only my computer, but a drawer full of Moleskine journals and Retro 51 Tornados. And I’d need a library that would put many smaller towns to shame, both in square footage and variety of printed texts. And like 20 different Kindles containing every book that I might ever like to read. From time to time I would invite my favorite authors to come and do a private stop on their book tours, or maybe just come out to visit and sign a book or two, and drink a glass of Scotch.

While I was waiting for the house to be completed, I guess I’d have to travel. It would be a perfect time to go see Scotland, Ireland, and England, Norway, Spain, and France. And I’d probably want to pop in to the Netherlands, and patronize a “coffee shop” in Amsterdam. We’d need to get all of my wife’s paperwork completed before we left the country, so we’d most likely make our first stop in her hometown just southeast of Mexico City. I think I’d like to treat all of my in-laws to the wedding celebration that we never had, renting out some old cathedral, and throwing a party the likes of which I’ve truly never cared for. My wife’s family helped mold her into the woman that I cannot imagine life without. If I was to come into some money, I’d like to make a dent into that debt which I never can repay.

And I suppose that I should put some money in the bank to prepare for David’s college, and property taxes, and not having to work another day in my entire life. You know, if I had millions of dollars.

-Tex