A One dollar Bill

Phillip sauntered down the crowded Manhattan streets with a grin on his face and a spring in his step. In his pocket was his first huge paycheck. The 20 year old boy headed straight for the bank. Time to get some cash, he thought to himself, I'll be a rich man.

Walking into the bank he went straight to the first teller he saw. Placing his check on the counter he stated, "I want this cashed."

The lady looked annoyed at his bluntness, "Okay," she replied, "sign the back." He grabbed a pen and quickly scribbled his name where she pointed. She placed the paper in her little machine and handed him the $651 in cash. He thanked her and walked out, counting it as he marveled at the six one hundred dollar bills he held. 

He folded the paper up and just as he was about to put it in his pocket, a boy in a hood ran in front of him, snatching the money right out of his hands. "Hey!" Phillip yelled and chased after him. He pushed his way through the clumps of people, knocking over an old lady and pushing children aside. He was too slow; the boy was already half a block ahead. "Stop him!" he yelled, but the New Yorker's just continued on their way, ignoring the theft. A gust of wind blew through the streets and a bill flew out of the robber's hands. Phillip caught up to the green paper, picking it up, he unfolded it and looked at the amount, praying it was a one hundred. His heart sank, he stared at the lonely one in the corner. He really only had a dollar to his name. 

"One dollar," he said aloud, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that that was all he had, "what can you do with one dollar?" Phillip stood in the middle of the sidewalk, people bumping him left and right, some telling him to get out of the way, but he just stood there in disbelief. 

A thought popped into his head, he didn't know where it came from, but it was there, and it was big. A couple streets over was the casino that he would go to to meet girls, he had never had much luck at the slot machines, but what did he have to lose? 

Phillip raced to the casino, the marquee above the entrance was blindingly bright, even in the daylight. He pulled open the heavy door and drifted to the closest slot machine. The hustle and bustle of the casino filled his ears. Dinging machines, cheering people, angry people, and the clanking of glasses at the bar seemed a little louder than normal. He shook his head, trying to focus. Taking a deep breath he pushed his only dollar into the slot, the machine dinged with a "whoop" and the words "Push button when ready!" appeared on the screen.

He took a deep breath, and as he hit the little red button he fully understood what he was doing. He had either just made a huge mistake or the best decision in his life. The three reels turned and turned. One by one they stopped rotating. The first was a seven. The second was another seven. He waited in anticipation for the third one to stop. It seemed to spin for a full minute before it rested on the one picture that changed Phillip's life. It too, was a seven.

The machine dinged loudly for the whole casino to hear. Gambler's around him stopped paying attention to their games and stared as the slot machine rang and flashed fancy lights. A huge $500,000 appeared on the tiny monitor. Phillip couldn't believe his eyes. He sat on the tiny stool just staring at the dollar sign. 

A receipt printed out next to the buttons, he took it, still not fully understanding what was happening. One of the casino workers, a bright eyed showgirl, rushed over to him, she grabbed his hand and said something that Phillip couldn't understand. Everything around him seemed to be in slow motion, words were mumbled and sounds were muffled. She took him to the payout counter, just as she turned to him to tell him what to do, his hearing returned and everything was a normal speed. "Just give them your receipt," she explained, with a wink, she continued, "and then maybe we can spend some of it."

Walking past her, ignoring her attempt to flirt, he placed the ticket on the counter, pushing it towards the teller. Without a word the man behind the metal bars grabbed it, looking at the piece of paper his eyes widened. He told Phillip he would have to have the manager get the money from the vault and that it would be a couple minutes. Phillip nodded and the man went to get his money. 

When he returned he carried a silver briefcase, which he slid through the opening in the bars and said, "Don't spend it all in one place." Phillip pulled the case towards him and opened it, marveling at the stacks of one hundred dollar bills. He shook off the feeling and closed the case; he thanked to the man and walked straight out the door, passed the showgirl. The bright lights of the daytime momentarily blinded him. He blinked a couple times and walked right to the bank.

"I'd like to open an account," he told the teller...