We all want to be millionaires. We all want the freedom that comes with owning a small chunk of paradise, whether that paradise be a shiny new car or The World's Largest Water Slide. Most importantly, we all want to leave this wretched hellhole we favorably call "the workplace" far behind. But here's the rub: we don't want to do it as a unit.
That's why your constant suggestion for us all to pool our money together to buy a bunch of lottery tickets is met with glaring disdain from everyone besides Meredith (who, really, is just excited that someone is finally including her in a conversation).
I fear you don't understand our generally begrudging responses and can't fathom why your idea isn't met with applause and confetti. Let's use a fun example to clarify:
If I land a sweet new gig (perhaps as the proprietor of The World's Largest Water Slide), I'd prefer not to show up for my first day on duty to see your dumb, smiling face waiting at the top of the slide. Maybe you're wearing swim trunks, preparing to take a glorious slide down four stories of bliss, or maybe you're wearing a blue polo shirt that is the official dress code of my employees--either way, you are not welcome there. That's my new home. My new workplace. The last thing I want to see is a pristine example of why I fled my previous workplace.
|Attention: No Merediths Allowed|
So if I were to win 10 million dollars, I would expect that day to be the happiest day of my life. But then the taxes would come. At least 2.5 million goes away to the IRS. And that's fine because 7.5 million dollars is still enough to keep The World's Largest Water Slide at the top of my To-Purchase list. Oh, but wait, now I have to split that money with Keith and Bjorn and Lily and that creepy guy from Accounting and Lester and...ugh, Meredith. And now we have to figure out how to divvy up millions of dollars. My coworkers, who argue over how much they have to pay for that pizza we all had equal slices of, are now supposed to do this with no kerfuffles or broken fingers?
You know that whoever physically buys the tickets will make like the pen thief they are and pocket the whole damn jackpot. A legal battle will ensue, we'll all grow to hate each other even more, and a giant chunk of our winnings will have been wasted on lawyer fees.
There's just no good way to make this happen. Someone's going to get shafted. And it will probably be Meredith.
...On second thought, the downsides aren't so insurmountable. Put me in for twenty bucks.