Lotteau Fever : Beverly Hills Purchases Tickets in Elegant Anonymity

Charles Kornguth, a Beverly Hills tobacconist, got a call about 11:30 a.m. Saturday, asking him to keep an eye on the street outside his shop.

Minutes later, a dark blue BMW glided up to the Beverly Hills Pipe & Tobacco Co., the window slid open, and the driver, who had used his car phone to alert Kornguth, handed over two white envelopes thick with lottery ticket requests--about $800 worth.

It was Lotto fever, Beverly Hills style.

Even in this fabled city, where wealth--or at least the appearance of it--is the rule and not the exception, the tantalizing possibility of a whopping windfall had provoked the residents to make a play for a $65-million jackpot in the state lottery.

Ken Scherer, producer of the TV show “Twin Peaks,” strolled into Kornguth’s cozy shop around noon to buy 10 tickets, as he does every Saturday.

“I just came from the barber shop and the whole conversation in there was about what to do with the money,” he said, adding that nearly all customers said they would quit their jobs and “go for the good life--decadence.”

If he won the jackpot, “I would move to Twin Peaks,” meaning North Bend, Wash., where the offbeat series is filmed, the producer said with a laugh.

Kornguth, an amiable Beverly Hills resident whose aromatic smoke shop is decorated with photographs of famous customers from Ed McMahon to Pia Zadora, seemed unfazed and more than a little amused, by the habits of his wealthier Lotto regulars.

Take the BMW driver, for instance. The drive-by player--one of a handful to whom the cigar shop owner extends curbside service--does not bother to play unless the prize is at least $10 million, Kornguth said.

The man dropped off the stack of Lotto sheets with his picks marked in blue ink, returning a few hours later with a check for $795 to cover his purchase. He had spent about the same amount last Wednesday, when the jackpot was $43 million.

The cigar shop owner has about half a dozen customers whose dual penchants for gambling and discretion drive them to either phone in their lottery picks or drop them off at the curb. Kornguth will run their numbers through his computer terminal and set aside the tickets until the buyers come by to pay for them.

He will not do this for just anybody--only for those whom he knows are “good for the money.”

This weekend’s estimated $65-million jackpot is the second largest in the six-year history of the state lottery.

If there is a winner, the city in which the ticket was purchased will be identified early this morning, but the names of the lucky player or players will not be known until they step forward to claim the prize.

Although the odds of winning were 1 in 23 million, Lotto fever was blisteringly high up and down the state, with tickets selling at a rate of almost 50,000 a minute, according to lottery officials.

Kornguth said it takes a jackpot of at least $35 million to create some excitement in his tony neighborhood.

When the stakes rise that high, it is not uncommon for some of the town’s most-monied residents to send their hired help to Kornguth’s shop to buy tickets for them.

The largest single play in his shop was a customer who purchased about $8,000 worth of tickets, Kornguth said.

The other day, a house servant in formal attire stopped in to buy $20 worth of tickets for his employer, whom Kornguth would describe only as a “big, big name” in the entertainment world.

“He always asks for a receipt,” Kornguth said.

Chauffeurs, gardeners and housekeepers step out of limousines to buy tickets for their bosses.

“Some people,” said Kornguth, “don’t want people to know that they have a lot of dough.”