Ah, it’s time for IPOs. The time of year when companies go public, financial guys get excited, and the rest of us pretend to grasp what “valuation” means. It’s like the Super Bowl for capitalism, but instead of touchdowns, there are expensive shares, camera flashes, and executives pretending they don’t plan to sell half their stock by next Friday.
Step 1: What is an IPO, and why does it seem like a flavor of vape?
When a firm decides to “go public,” it means that it is finally ready to cease being hard to get and let others buy shares. In short, they allow people acquire shares for the first time while pretending that everyone has the same chance. Spoiler: it isn’t.
The official goal? Get money. The real goal? Get investors to pay you more, make your ego bigger, and get on CNBC.
Imagine a startup that has been “disrupting” something, like food delivery or sentiments, suddenly says they are going to list on the public market. The creators say it’s about growing the community, but it’s really just about getting their exit bonus and buying a yacht called “Liquidity.”
You notice the news while sitting at home and think, “Maybe I’ll finally put money into something.” No, you won’t. The pleasure is lost by the time regular folks can acquire IPO shares. Months ago, the big players bought in. They are playing chess. You are playing scratch-off cards. And “IPO day” isn’t about you either. It’s all about the buzz. It’s Kim Kardashian’s wedding under the garb of economics.
Step 2: The Financial FOMO Industrial Complex, also known as the IPO Hype Machine Ah, the media frenzy that comes with IPO week. It’s not just a business event; it’s a full-on influencer moment for companies worth billions of dollars.
There will be posts like “Company X soars 75% on debut!” “New IPO makes 1,200 new millionaires!”
“Experts say this could be the next Tesla!”
When someone mentions “the next Tesla,” an economist goes crazy.
For weeks, financial news has been drooling over these announcements. They’ll talk to the founder, show you handshakes, bell rings, and smiles, and somehow, everyone will forget that half of these companies aren’t making money.
You’d think investors would have learnt from the failure of WeWork or the fall of Robinhood. Nope. People are addicted to hope. IPOs are like fan fiction for making more money. People get excited about IPOs because they think “going public” is cool. It’s like Shark Tank and Wall Street mixed together with a little bit of craziness. The story: “We’re making the world better.” The hidden meaning is, “We’re turning our stock options into cash.”
Step 3: Why Everyone Acts Like They Know What Stock Prices Are
After the IPO, when the company is traded on the open market, people seem to be extremely sure about how the “market” will do.
At lunch, coworkers will talk about “float,” “valuation,” and “market cap” as if they don’t still Venmo their roommate for Wi-Fi.
When stock prices go up or down, CNBC acts like someone just found fire. Check the facts:
Stocks are like mood rings for the economy. They don’t show facts; they only show feelings, guesses, and coffee.
If someone said “AI synergy,” a company could lose billions and still see its stock price go up. Another could make a lot of money and then lose it all because someone on Reddit said “meh.” And after the IPO, the hype train keeps going. It goes off track. New investors come in a lot, thinking they’re ahead of the game. The huge dogs sell off without making a fuss. Prices fall. Everyone freaks out.
At this point, your uncle writes you, “Told you to buy at the dip,” conveniently forgetting about his crypto losses in 2021.
Step 4: IPO Horror Stories That Should Have Their Own Netflix Show
There are ten “WeWork tragedies” waiting in line for every “Amazon IPO success story.” Do you remember Robinhood? The app that made investing available to everyone? They went public in 2021 and quickly showed that their goal was really to “democratize disappointment.”
Or Uber. They made a big deal out of their IPO, saying it would transform the world. Then it fell faster than your patience on a customer service chat.
And we can’t forget about Facebook’s IPO. The site literally destroyed Nasdaq’s system since no one expected that many people to witness Mark Zuckerberg wear a suit for the first time.
When IPOs go wrong, they blow up. Stocks crash, lawsuits follow, and everyone on social media says they “saw it coming.”
But that’s the best part! America’s favorite thing to do is watch billion-dollar tragedies from the sidelines. It’s free fun that comes from bad choices and rules that make the public more open.
Step 5: Investing in IPOs Is Like Dating—There Are a Lot of Red Flags and Too Many Promises
Here’s the deal: investing in IPOs is less of a “smart financial strategy” and more of a “forbidden love affair with disappointment.”
You think you’re getting in early, but you’re really buying in after the people who know what they’re doing have already made money and left.
The signs are always there:
Dramatic advertising? Warning sign.
Every three minutes, the CEO is on CNBC? Warning sign. Slogans like “We’re changing the world”? Big red flag.
That’s not a business; it’s a cult with a stock symbol.
And the strangest thing? You will still fall for it. Every time.
Because this one might be different. This company could be the next Amazon. Spoiler alert: it’s not. It will be a case study in “liquidity events gone wrong” by the third quarter of next year.
Still, watching a dazzling brand name go public is the best way to get that dopamine rush. IPOs are like “new season drops” in the world of capitalism. You know they will let you down, but you can’t stop watching.
Step 6: The Wonderful Aftermath— Everyone loses, but in a nice way.
The company gets its time in the spotlight. People in charge grow wealthy. Reporters earn clicks. And we, the poor people of finance, have to deal with a stock that isn’t stable and wish we hadn’t bought it. Elton John should write a song about the circle of life.
The excitement dies down after a few months. Prices level off (or drop completely), and the news goes on to the next dazzling ticker symbol without saying anything.
You have the arid, unholy marriage of regret and “long-term holding,” and you check your brokerage app while pleading, “Please get better soon.”
But we’ll do it again! The next IPO strikes — Starbucks rings a new bell, TikTok whispers fly around, and analysts murmur “growth potential.” Then, boom, we’re back.
We don’t really acquire IPOs to make money. We buy them for the excitement. We want to feel something. What if we lose money? Whatever. We weren’t going to retire anyway.
Bonus Round: The Unwritten Rules for Staying Alive After an IPO
If you really have to get into the craziness of an IPO, even though you know it’s not a good idea, here’s a cheat sheet:
If it’s trending, you’re already behind.
When it gets to your feed, venture capitalists are almost halfway to Bora Bora. Don’t pay attention to what influencers say.
It’s not a plan if someone is using dancing steps to convey money. It’s a warning. Look at the first week. Buy the first thing you regret.
Prices always go up, then down, and only stay stable when your panic medicine kicks in. Don’t ever buy anything that says it’s “the future of capitalism.”
That didn’t work for us. It didn’t work. Talk to Enron.
Investing in IPOs won’t make you rich. It’s for fun—capitalism’s most expensive reality TV show. You don’t have to have popcorn.
Good job, You’re ready to lose money in style.
Should you purchase into IPOs, then? No way. Will you? For sure. That’s what makes it fun. We all act like we’re early investors, but deep down we know we’re just emotional gamblers in sarcastic hoodies.
IPOs promise you a route into the next big thing, but what they really sell is hope. Wall Street is really excellent at making money off of optimism. So, yes, buy the stock. Look at it go down. Post a meme. At least you’ll lose with style. Congratulations if you’ve read this far. You now know more about IPOs than half of TikTok Finance. Go on, and may your delusion bring you good results.
