Never Tell Me the Odds

$640 million. I mean, what the fuck. How is that even possible. How is it possible that in this time when we know all about statistics and our infinitesimal odds, and in this economy where a lot of people don’t have the money to do anything, we have still thrown $640 million at a private industry that runs purely on luck and consumer taxation? This is not to say that I’m not in on it. Oh, I totally am. I’ve got a dollar in the pool at work and three dollars on my own ticket. Four dollars. That is the maximum I am willing to spend on the literally astronomical chance that I will become the richest person that I or anyone else in my entire family have ever known in the history of our existence in the world.

In numerical terms, the odds of a person winning this are 175,711,536 to 1. Can you even wrap your head around that number? Of course you can’t. It’s impossible. You can’t conceive of getting 19 straight holes in one, or getting attacked by a shark on multiple consecutive days, or giving birth to conjoined twins every single time you give birth. I stole all of this from CNN, which also stole the Han Solo line I had in my head and used for my title before I read the article (before, I say!). The human mind is not capable of understanding these odds, but then, as Americans, we love the underdog and in this case, we are all the underdog. Well. All of us in the 40 states in which Mega Millions is legal, but who’s even counting anymore? IT’S IMPOSSIBLE.

If no one wins this lottery, the next one will come in at just under one billion dollars. But with so many people playing, the odds are that someone will win, and I hope to god it’s not some old person (like 90, because 90-year-olds have very little business being alive let alone winning a $640 million lottery) or someone who’s already rich (like that jackhole in West Virginny who was a millionaire when he won and then spent everything in just a few years because he’s a dumbass hillbilly). I also hope that a group wins instead of just a single person, because as much as I’d like to be really stupid rich, I also know that no one should be that rich. It’s just pointless. If you’re not a total asshole, there just aren’t enough things in the world to buy. You know what I want? I want a house for me and Graham, I want to pay for my nephew’s education, and I want to quit my job. I’m not saying I don’t want to work at all anymore forever, but if I could quit this job and not have to even think about looking for another for two or three years, that would be ideal. Or maybe I could just work at a bookstore or something. You don’t need $640 million (or $300 million after everyone else’s marginal winnings and taxes) to do that.

About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
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