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Central International Airport Just a week earlier Mickey was "let go," from his job at the Turtle Creek casino. He drove home in a rage, screaming at God. "What do I do now God? Your a lot of help. Thanks a whole Hell of a lot! I just can't be happy?" Then, on Tuesday, the last day of July 2007, Mickey hit his knees and gave thanks and asked God for his forgiveness and for doubting God. Now, the man, Mickey Rivers, was here for a connecting flight from Traverse City, Michigan. Kanya could not help staring at his physique. His frame was very muscular, he could have been interpreted as a very tough guy, but the dimples in his smile made people feel comfortable in his presence. He smiled at the baggage clerk and gave a wink. "Fine, here stow it, but you had better not loose it." Mickey looked around at the others waiting to board the plane. I have plenty of time, he thought to himself, I'm going out for a smoke. Mickey lit the cigarette and took in a deep drag. He looked around, careful not to blow smoke on or around anyone else. Mickey pulled his ticket out of his gray $3000 dollar suit and looked at it. First class, no expense spared, not for me he thought. He had just cashed in his lottery ticket to the tune of $31 million after taxes and in one payment.
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