I used to be a store manager at the StopofGames, and you would not Believe the number of people who don’t understand, “50% more when you trade your games”. I’ve had actual conversations consisting of me giving a math lesson like this:
Customer: “it’s 50% extra this game should be worth $44.”
Me: “ your game is worth $22, so 50% of $22 is $11. So your game is worth $33.”
C: “No it should be $44.”
Y/N:“I think I almost get it. Maybe I need another example.”
N:“It’s actually very simple. For example there may be a lot of smart, cute girls, beautiful girls, girls with a good personality but it’s very rare that all these are combined in a girl. That’s why I’m very lucky to know you because the chances are zero for me to meet another girl like you.”
Michael Jordan’s legendary slam dunk from the free throw line has been calculated at 0.92 seconds of pure hang time. But how many seconds could Jordan have gotten were he doing the same jump on Mars? Or Jupiter? Or….the MOON???
Could you imagine if Harry was dating an American and they decided to bake together and she gets all confused since the measurements are different in America since they don't do the metric system and he has to like sit her down and give her a math lesson before they can bake. I would love to have Harry as my math teacher.
“Listen, that’s too much flour for a batch of cupcakes. They’ll be so bleedin’ dry, yeh’ll have to wash them down with gallons of water.”
“I don’t know how much to put in, do I? British wanker,” she’d mutter beneath her breath, looking down at the mixing bowl in front of her as she drags her fingers through the powder.
“What did yeh just call me, love? Hmm? A British wanker, yeah? S’that what I am to you?” And he’d just chuckle and smirk and stick his finger into his own cake mixture, holding it up at eye level and examining it to see if it was enough mixture before pushing it to her cheek and dragging it down to your jaw, “s’that make me an even bigger British wanker? Yeah?”
He’d laugh heavily, hunching over and holding his side as she wipes her palm down her cheek and removes the sticky mixture coating her skin, frowning heavily as she wipes it on his t-shirt and smirks as it leaves a stain on the white material.
“You’re too horrible to me, Harry. Why does the British metric system have to be different to the American system? That’s what confuses me.”
“Time for a maths lesson, yeah?”
“American soil, Harry. You’re in America. You say Math not Maths. Come on now.”
“American wanker,” he’d tease back, a chuckle escaping his mouth as she spins around and gasps in fake shock, a smile on his lips as he brings his face closer to hers and presses them against the slither of skin at her jawline that was still slightly covered in cake mix, “you taste good.” xx