“Which would you rather be… Poor, old, or alone?” Frank asked as he sipped more of his beer. Him and his group of friends had been getting drunk and playing cards most of the night.

“No contest: Poor.” Andrew answered.

“Dude, seriously? Who would want to be poor?” Remy said, laughing.

“Because, it’d be awesome.” Andrew said, as if the answer was obvious. He looked up and saw his friend staring at him in bewilderment. “OK, think about it. When you’re old, sure, you waste money on whatever because you’re going to die. When you’re alone you don’t have anyone to share anything with. But, when you’re poor, you have everything—and nothing— to live for! I met this guy once, right, this young homeless dude. I was like, ’Shouldn’t you be getting a job?’ and he laughed. His breath was all, nasty, and everything, and I was confused. Then he gave me some great insight, ‘When you’re poor the only thing you can do is gain.’ So, now I wouldn’t mind being poor.”

“That won’t be a problem if you keep losing.”