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On the third night, bored out of my skull and still feeling sorry for myself, I was scrolling through the limited apps on this new phone. I remembered that my old phone had automatically backed up my bookmarks to the cloud. Maybe, just maybe, I could access them. I managed to log in, and there they were. A list of my usual sites. News, sports, a few cooking blogs. And then I saw it. A bookmark I’d saved months ago, after a friend had raved about it and I’d thought ‘maybe someday.’ The bookmark was for vavada.com online. In my state of mind, it seemed as good a distraction as any. Better than staring at the ceiling, at least.
I created an account, my fingers clumsy on the small screen. I deposited what I figured was a ‘stupid tax’—fifty bucks. I was so sure I’d just lose it immediately, which felt appropriate for this terrible week. I clicked on the first slot game I saw, some jungle-themed thing with a grumpy-looking tiger. I set the bet to the minimum and just started tapping the spin button, not even watching the screen, just thinking about my stupid lost phone.
I burned through thirty dollars like it was nothing. The grumpy tiger just ate my money. I sighed. Of course. I was about to close the browser and go back to feeling sorry for myself when I noticed another game. It was called "Golden Sevens" or something like that. It looked simpler, less annoying. I switched over. My first spin, nothing. Second spin, a single bar. Third spin, the classic 7-7-7. A bell sound went off. Not a crazy siren, just a pleasant ding-ding-ding. A win. A decent one. It brought me back to almost even.
It was enough to hook my attention. I was actually looking at the screen now. I kept spinning. I’d go down ten dollars, then win eight back. It was a slow, steady dance. I wasn’t getting rich, but I wasn’t losing either. I was just… playing. And for the first time since the airport, I wasn't thinking about my phone. My mind was completely quiet, focused on those spinning reels. The anxiety was gone, replaced by a weird, calm focus.
Then it happened. I triggered a bonus round. Pick-a-game. I tapped one of the hidden symbols. A multiplier. x5. I tapped another. x10. The third one. The screen seemed to freeze for a second on my cheap little phone. Then it lit up like a Christmas tree. A tiny, tinny fanfare played from the phone's speaker. I had to squint at the numbers. It was a jackpot. Not the mega, universe-changing one, but the minor one. The amount was… impossible. It was more money than I’d ever held in my hands at one time.
I actually put the phone down on the hotel bed and walked away from it. I went and splashed water on my face. I came back to vavada.com online and it was still there. The number hadn’t changed. I processed the withdrawal request right then and there, my hands shaking. The entire process, from verification to the money hitting my e-wallet, took less than an hour.
I ended up buying the newest, most expensive phone on the market the next day. I didn’t even flinch at the price. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d lost a phone and found a fortune. That trip turned from the worst to the most memorable one of my life. The win was incredible, but the feeling of that anxiety just melting away, of a moment of pure, unexpected grace in the middle of a terrible week… that was the real prize. It was a story I still can’t quite believe myself.