With the lottery at the insanely large number of $640 million dollars, it's been a good portion of the news coverage over the last couple of days. The other part of the news? Some jackass making himself feel smart by pointing out how shitty the odds of winning the lottery are.
"You're more likely to get struck by lightning and live than you are to win the lottery."
"You're more likely to give birth to triplets>"
"More likely to become president"
"More likely to get killed by a flamethrower wielding bear that's riding a meteor made of ice cream sandwiches>"
Yeah. We know. We all know. The thing is that we don't care. We just like to hope. We all know that when we walk into our local convenience store tomorrow and scan our tickets that it will say some variant of "not a winner" or give us some smaller dollar amount. Most likely $2-10. It doesn't matter. At my little workplace, we've spent the last two days talking about what we'll do with our share when our pool wins. Move to Nicaragua or Jamaica. Get some house worthy of MTV Cribs. In my case, go to culinary school so I can open my cozy little restaurant that I dream about. The charities that we'll give money to. Going to the humane society and adopting that old dog that's been there. The one that used to have a home and his/her owners had to give them up. Giving that mellow old lab mix a nice home for its last few years.
The reason that we buy the tickets is that we know that winning the lottery is the just about the only way that we'll even come close to having our dreams come true. We work shitty jobs for just enough money to cover our bills with a little extra to save in case of emergencies. I'll likely never have the money to go to a real culinary school. Likely never have the money to open my own restaurant that I'll eventually fill with regulars and work in the kitchen of until I retire. If I'm lucky, I'll wind up working in somebody else's small restaurant that'll fill with regulars with enough money left over to adopt that old dog. My friends will own a smaller house that'll need work. They'll save and vacation in Nicaragua or Jamaica every couple of years. We know the odds are against us. They always are. We'll likely never rise above where we are now, but we can hope.
Pointing out what we already know doesn't make you smart. It doesn't make you clever. It just makes you kind of a dick. Not to mention you probably bought a ticket too. Because deep down, even though you know that you won't win, you hope.
"You're more likely to get struck by lightning and live than you are to win the lottery."
"You're more likely to give birth to triplets>"
"More likely to become president"
"More likely to get killed by a flamethrower wielding bear that's riding a meteor made of ice cream sandwiches>"
Yeah. We know. We all know. The thing is that we don't care. We just like to hope. We all know that when we walk into our local convenience store tomorrow and scan our tickets that it will say some variant of "not a winner" or give us some smaller dollar amount. Most likely $2-10. It doesn't matter. At my little workplace, we've spent the last two days talking about what we'll do with our share when our pool wins. Move to Nicaragua or Jamaica. Get some house worthy of MTV Cribs. In my case, go to culinary school so I can open my cozy little restaurant that I dream about. The charities that we'll give money to. Going to the humane society and adopting that old dog that's been there. The one that used to have a home and his/her owners had to give them up. Giving that mellow old lab mix a nice home for its last few years.
The reason that we buy the tickets is that we know that winning the lottery is the just about the only way that we'll even come close to having our dreams come true. We work shitty jobs for just enough money to cover our bills with a little extra to save in case of emergencies. I'll likely never have the money to go to a real culinary school. Likely never have the money to open my own restaurant that I'll eventually fill with regulars and work in the kitchen of until I retire. If I'm lucky, I'll wind up working in somebody else's small restaurant that'll fill with regulars with enough money left over to adopt that old dog. My friends will own a smaller house that'll need work. They'll save and vacation in Nicaragua or Jamaica every couple of years. We know the odds are against us. They always are. We'll likely never rise above where we are now, but we can hope.
Pointing out what we already know doesn't make you smart. It doesn't make you clever. It just makes you kind of a dick. Not to mention you probably bought a ticket too. Because deep down, even though you know that you won't win, you hope.