Ain’t it the truth? Just when you’re down to your last dollar and Christmas is coming, God sends us the perfect deal. As I was heading out the door to the Dollar Store to buy she who is so generous to me a basket full of dollar items for Christmas, I decided to check my email.

Lo and behold, there was the perfect answer. God had heard my prayers for more cash. I try not to ask God for money. It’s really tacky and most often it doesn’t work.

It only worked for me once, when I was a poor out-of-work actor in the winter of 1958. I was having a Christmas dinner bowl of clam chowder in a Seventh Avenue diner, and I closed my eyes and prayed for just another dollar, so I could have the pumpkin pie. As I was stepping off the stool to leave, I found a five dollar bill on the floor. Thank you, God.

But as this Christmas approaches, I’m much better off. I have a large pot of chowder on the stove, and thanks to she who bought the fish, things don’t look so bad.

But I really had hoped for a Christmas miracle of cash, so that I could reward her for her year-long patience.

Then there it was, right on the computer screen. Budweiser beer was making an amazing offer. I’m from St. Louis, the home of Budweiser. It’s an omen.

If I hurried, I could get in on a great money-making deal. Budweiser was offering $400 a week to anyone who would allow his or her car to be wrapped in full color plastic ads for the famous beer. Is that something great or what?

It spelled it out clearly: “Budweiser beer will generously pay prospective clients like yourself cash money to allow your vehicle to be covered in our logo for four months.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. They offered money for me to drive around central Maine in my red Prius covered with a huge ad for Budweiser.

There were clear instructions: “If you accept the offer, Budweiser will send a check for the full amount of the time the ad is on. When the check arrives, you get to keep a large portion for yourself and then send the rest to the professionals, who will come to your house to put the ads on.”

She, who is very skeptical of such generous offers, said it was clearly a scam. But when I showed her the message that went on to say, “Our world class partners such as Coca-Cola, Monster Energy, XS Energy, Johnny Walker and others will generously pay prospective clients like you,” she said half of the car was mine, and if I wanted to put the decals on my half and humiliate myself, she couldn’t stop me, but she would refuse to ride in it and would take cabs to church.

What’s wrong with this woman? Everyone who knows me knows I need money. I’m a freelance writer. If I didn’t need money, I wouldn’t sit in this cold house at this computer. I would be ice skating or playing pool, or taking horseback riding lessons. I’ve been thinking of that for a long time as silly as it sounds.

Years ago in Hollywood, I was hired to do a pilot for a Western series. All I had to do was ride into town with a bunch of bad guys and walk into a saloon. So I auditioned. I was scared to death and my horse knew it. It kept going around in circles. Everyone laughed, including the horse. True story.

I looked at the pictures of the decals that would be put on the car. I think they would look great on the red Prius. What can go wrong? I can drive around Waterville and on to Augusta, up and down Exchange Street in Portland, and cruise up and down the supermarket parking lot. I will roll down the windows and wave at people to attract attention. A lot of people know me and a lot of them drink Budweiser, plus I would get $400 a week for six weeks.

Wait until she opens all those packages Christmas morning. Then we’ll see if she thinks it’s humiliating.

J.P. Devine is a Waterville writer.

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