Alison Wonderland

Alison Roth - Editor-In-Chief, '12

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I quickly rip off the waxy paper attached to the side of my steaming fries. With each tear, my heart pounds faster. The brightly colored piece falls off. Could it be?

Nope, it’s just anotherConnecticut Ave.I shrug and toss the square lazily into my car’s center console, now overflowing with other discarded Monopoly properties.

Every year I play, what is frankly, the most frustrating game in the world: McDonalds’ Monopoly. For a limited time, certain Mc-Donalds’ items have Monopoly properties on them, and all you have to do is find all two or three in the same set to win. What do you win? Oh, just a million dollars. Throughout the month, I eat McDonalds more times a day I would like to admit and spend more money than I have in an attempt to walk away with big money.

I’ve already looked up the statistics of winning and know that the chances are pretty much impossible, but every year that never stops me. Looking back, the “month of Monopoly” seems like just an excuse for me to eat a ridiculous amount of fatty foods without feeling guilty.

The only consolidation about playing is that I know that just about everyone in the world feels my pain. We all have that one destructive habit in our lives that we constantly return to, despite the outstanding odds against us. We come back again and again, clinging to that .001 percent chance to be victorious and beat the system, whether it is the winning the lottery or attempting to bowl a perfect game.

When the Monopoly frenzy ended last week, I looked over a my pile of now worthless paper squares sitting on my desk and scolded myself, yet again, for obsessing over the unreachable.

But no matter how long or harsh I punish myself, deep down I know that I will once again pull out my miniature board and resume collecting pieces. Even though I already know my expected outcome: 5 pounds heavier, 50 dollars poorer and 1 property short of a million dollars; I will continue to play. Because there is just the smallest chance that maybe, just maybe, I could be a winner… •

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