So the Texas big grand lotto is like 267 million bux.
What do the groupies at work do?
We open a pool, asking every person at the plant if they want to buy a $5 share. Twenty some-odd peeps pony up with their five spot and at lunch today the buxom office wenches teeter off to the "Truck Stop" to purchase said tix.
We ended up with 165 chances to share in what we idiotically calculated would work out to about 4.7 mil apiece after taxes and gratuities. I doubt this was even remotely an intended purpose of buying each of us the "delux adding machine" for our new desks at the new plant. Sales tax, payroll, yes, back child support payments and pie in the sky lotto winnings? no.
Even the bossman bought a share.
I know we won't win. I know it in my darkly pessimistic Virgo soul. But it's been nice to wallow in the fantasy that it affords. Trips we'd take and the new place we'd move. And how the twins wouldn't have to go to the public school of violence in September if we moved or had a big bucket of new money.
Any time I even hear of the lotto, I think of the slogan of the New York State lotto, from the era that I lived upstate: "HEY! Ya never know!" And the investment banker firm who took that and turned it into a locally popular and amusing ad campaign, "Start saving for retirement, because, HEY! Ya never win!"