The day before the Powerball drawing, I started saying good-bye to my coworkers. After being together for so many years and sharing our hopes and dreams, joys and sorrows, pound cake and prom photos, it was painful to say good-bye, but as they say in those French movies, \u201cC\u2019est la vie.\u201d Or more appropriately, \u201cC\u2019est la guerre.\u201d You see, I knew I was going to hit the $448 million jackpot (chances of winning, one in 175 million), so I didn\u2019t need to work anymore. Actually, I\u2019ve announced I was leaving a few times in the past \u2014 before the $656 million drawing and before the $590 million drawing \u2014 and my colleagues always reacted the same way. Selfishly. EVERYBODY, except the fellow who cleans the men\u2019s room, wants me to finance them. Do I look like the United Way? \u201cTake me with you!\u201d one woman pleaded. \u201cI\u2019m already married,\u201d I said. \u201cLet your husband support you.\u201d \u201cCan\u2019t you help me out with a million or so? OK, half a million? A few hundred thousand?\u201d another asked. \u201cGod helps those who help themselves,\u201d I responded. \u201cBesides, when the office ran out of coffee two years ago, you took the last pot and didn\u2019t even think about me.\u201d I have a long memory. As they say in those Italian movies, \u201cArrivederci!\u201d Are we living in a welfare state, where a guy can\u2019t win $448 million without everyone lining up with their hands out? I heard a lot of hard-luck stories: \u201cI have to have my wisdom teeth out.\u201d Boohoo. \u201cMy son wants a new .\u201d Boohoo. \u201cI need a new set of tires for my BMW 760Li.\u201d Bah humbug. I was the one with the real hard-luck story. The government was going to beat me out of my fortune. I\u2019d only get $61.9 million, and the rest would go to Uncle Sam to pay for McDonald\u2019s renovations on I-95 (a high-priority pork barrel project) and to prevent Social Security from collapsing (I expect to collect someday) and to provide farm subsidies for Bon Jovi\u2019s bee colonies (hey, honey bees are in big trouble). Last month, some of my coworkers scoffed at me for giving a panhandler a few measly bucks, and now they were looking to pick my pocket. I, however, decided to be generous ONLY to those who were generous to others. If you were on my preferred list, you would get amply rewarded \u2026 with a Starbucks gift card. They grumbled. They wanted more. They wanted me to buy them a Starbucks franchise. They were only concerned with cold, hard cash. But for me, the real pleasure was knowing my coworkers would still be chained to their desks, paying into Social Security so they could collect $15,000 a year someday, fighting rush-hour traffic, and stinking up the office with their macaroni and cheese in the microwave every afternoon. So long, suckers! Meanwhile, I would be lying on a Caribbean beach, watching women parade by in bikinis. Even though I hate the beach, I\u2019d learn to love it. After all, you have to do something productive in retirement. \u201cI always knew you were a cheap so and so!\u201d someone grumbled. \u201cSorry,\u201d I insisted. \u201cIt has to be this way. That\u2019s my money, fair and square, and your negative attitude is very insulting \u2026\u201d OK, by now you know the bad news. I didn\u2019t win Powerball. Something went wrong with my calculations. The good news is I got two numbers out of 10 tickets, and at that rate by 2027, I may win $6. I lost to some guy in Minnesota and 16 garage workers in New Jersey, who split the jackpot. Oh, I also lost a few friends. Maybe I\u2019ll still buy Starbucks gift cards for them \u2026 or maybe I won\u2019t. Bah humbug. Joe Pisani may be reached at email@example.com.