Merchants Happy to Help Scratch the Lottery Itch

Within 10 minutes after the start of lottery sales Thursday, a red LTD rolled up to the curb beside the Laurel News stand at Van Nuys and Laurel Canyon boulevards in Pacoima. The driver handed two $20 bills to the newsstand man who reached into the car.

The man shuffled back to the cash box and ripped off a string of 40 tickets.

The car pulled away.

It was was an auspicious new beginning for Lew Gross, owner of the magazine stand that, he said, has been open every day for 17 years on this heavily traveled intersection in the depressed but tightknit business district of the northeast San Fernando Valley.

It seemed that Gross and his customers had been waiting all those 17 years for the day the lottery started.

‘Money Stays in California’

“Hey Bill, this way I don’t got to go to Las Vegas anymore,” Ruben Coquis, a retired construction worker from San Fernando, said to one of the two helpers Gross had to handle the extra business. “You know I go to Vegas once a month and spend $400. Now I can spend it here. The money stays in California.”

With his fingernail, Coquis scratched the coating off 10 tickets to see what he had. One winner. $2.

Coquis was bubbling anyway.

“I bought the first tickets,” he said over and over. “OK. Yeah. Maybe I’m not lucky today. I’ll be lucky tomorrow.”

Several times he fingered five more tickets in his hand, but at the last minute refrained.

“These are for my wife,” he said.

For the first hour, business was brisk. Gross had two helpers working the curb while he did his best to hold a position near the magazines.

Women carrying babies, working men on lunch breaks, retirees and younger men with time to kill streamed steadily by the Laurel News stand at Laurel Canyon and Van Nuys boulevards.

A $2 payoff was enough to generate excitement. Several times, middle-aged women with broad smiles on their faces appeared on the street and walked swiftly toward the newsstand waving tickets to reclaim. Many people drove up in their cars, waved a few dollar bills out the window and then departed with their tickets. Often they simply drove around the block and waved their winning tickets out the window.

Seldom did they take cash back.

“Give me two more tickets,” they would say.

Lottery buyers throughout the Valley seemed to express that sentiment Thursday, sometimes with a flair.

In the back of Enshino, a Japanese restaurant on Ventura Boulevard in Encino, owner Hiromi Sano and 11 employees each contributed $10 to buy 120 tickets with the understanding that they would share any big winnings 12 ways.

Fourteen of the cards won $2 each. As Sano deftly peeled off the coating with a Swiss Army knife, the word “two” would be passed around the room and back into the kitchen, where repetitions could be heard: “Two, two, two.” They decided they would reinvest the $28 and try again. Everybody went back to preparing for the dinner hour.

And, at the All-American News Stand, at the corner of Ventura Boulevard and Newcastle Avenue in Encino, one of the first customers showed up in a shining white Mercedes. A tall, dark-complexioned man in a tailored suit with a woman in a billowing garment of turquoise silk emerged from the car, bought $100 worth of tickets and quickly got back in the car.

“The tickets are a gift for my children, something to play with,” said the man, roaring off, suggesting some slight embarrassment at the purchase.

Not all merchants wholeheartedly embraced the state-sponsored gambling craze.

‘Something to Look Forward To’

In the ritzy shopping environment of the Sherman Oaks Galleria, all but two of 100 stores--Perry’s Pizza and Connie Shoes--spurned ticket sales.

When asked why he was not selling tickets, the manager of a Radio Shack snapped: “I would never approve of gambling.”

But, in the blue-collar setting of Pacoima, none of that sentiment was to be found.

“It gives them something to look forward to,” Gross, the newsstand owner, said of those who bought tickets. “It gives them something of an incentive, a little hope for the price of a pack of cigarettes. It doesn’t hurt their health.”

Along with Gross, the owners of a pharmacy, a bar, several liquor stores, a grocery store, drugstore, hardware store, furniture store and two check-cashing outlets reported selling from 200 to more than 2,000 tickets before 4 p.m.

Several store owners said they decided to get into the lottery business not to make money off tickets, but to please their customers and perhaps attract new ones.

“I had a lot of people asking about it,” said Paul Sustin, owner of Pacoima Hardware, which sold more than 1,000 tickets by early afternoon. “We try to give the public what it wants.”

And many customers went from store to store, trying to find their lucky ticket.

Merchants’ Friendly Sparring

A friendly competition developed between many merchants.

“Hi, Lew,” said Barry Wise, a man in a blue medical coat who popped out of the Pacoima Pharmacy right behind Gross’ newsstand. “Hot spot. Hot spot. We had five winners. Send them to the pharmacy.”

“No, don’t go to the pharmacy,” Gross yelled back. “That’s where you get poisoned. Here’s a winner. This lady won $2.”

Although the Valley had at least two $5,000 winners Thursday, it wasn’t payoff day in Pacoima.

The largest winner of a ticket bought in Pacoima was reported to be a Los Angeles policeman who won $500. He bought the ticket at Williams Furniture & Appliances.

All day long, in the back of the store, there was a steady line at the cashier’s glass stand. They bought 2,000 tickets while paying their monthly installments on furniture.

Rick Aguilar, manager of the store, said one family bought $71 in tickets, had a $100 winner and took their winnings in new tickets.

One big loser was Ray Hawatmah, owner of the Mobil station across the street from Gross’s newsstand. He said he spent $50 at the newsstand and $28 at the pharmacy.

“I already spent $78 and I haven’t won one,” Hawatmah told Gross while handing the spent tickets back to him. “Send these back to the lottery people.”

Then he unfolded another $25 to buy more.

“I own the gas station,” he said with a twinkle of a smile. “No problem. If I spend $100 a day, I make it back.”