The lump sum or the annuity?

Fast Eddy or Steady Eddy?

The goose or the gander?

Taking the annuity essentially gives you a salaried post as a professional breathing human person. A post you’ll never be downsized from, or relieved of. You’ll never get a promotion, and you’ll never be demoted because there’s nothing else. There’s no up or down. There’s right where you are, right now, forever. Slow and steady. You’re receiving a regular annual income for the rest of your life. Just remember to sac some of it away.

The lump sum, on the other hand, definitively makes you filthy stinking rich. Wealth (“snap”) like that. Go now and do literally anything you want. The lump sum is blowing ridiculous piles of cash on extraneous things you’ve never needed, and won’t take care of. It gives you a brand new “wherewithal” – one that puts the existential hammer and chisel right into your perfectly manicured hands. Please, go now and create a world that has only ever existed in your mind.

On corporate job interviews, where you’re blindsidedly escorted into a room with a folding chair before an oaken boardroom desk before three spotted liver executives – you’re asked questions that don’t have answers in the real world. Except the glistening executives don’t care, because they’ve already decided on hiring one of their nephews, but the board mandates a rigorous screening and three-step interview process for each post. So they stare vapidly at your crooked tie knot, and ask you things like, “On a scale from one to ten, where would you rank this opportunity in terms of being your dream job?”

You blurt out “NINE” or even “TEN”.

They three nod, and one says “Really?” with a wrinkled mouth.

Then you go through your spiel about the company history and the stigma and the brand. But what you should’ve said was something like, “Well, outside of a minority ownership share of the Boston Red Sox!” pause, “I’d say this is pretty close”.

Why am I off on this tangent? Because the lump sum is the minority ownership share of the Red Sox, without the hassle of putting on pants every morning. Oh yeah, and you’ll never ever ever have to sit before a panel interview of speckled hens in slick suits.

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