I was sitting at The Abbey working on my essay "The Semiotics of the Automotive Exhaust Pipe" when Rachel entered, accompanied by a middle-aged fellow with a pinched face. They sat down at a table nearby. I casually cupped my hand and placed it over my ear in order to hear the conversation.
"I" said Conrad the bachelor smugly to Rachel, "have devised the ultimate system for selecting a mate. As you may or may not know, at the university I studied advanced mathematics, systems engineering, and biochemistry; it is this varied and indeed intellectually rigorous background which has enabled me to construct my foolproof system. I consent to three dates, and on those dates collect data from the woman or, as I refer to her, potential mate. Then I calculate a coefficient which expresses the likelihood, or, conversely, unlikelihood, that said woman would be a suitable mate for me. My system encompasses, as you may or may not realize, the disciplines of statistics, calculus, what I refer to as biologistics, and the actuarial sciences. By using my system I have been able to filter out unsuitable mates. It is well known that love is initially an explosion of chemicals which then settles into everyday misery; it is obvious to me that one should not trust one's future to so-called feelings but rather the rigorous science which I have outlined for you."
"It should be noted, however," Rachel replied, standing suddenly, "that the outcome of your system is a fifty year old bachelor who lives in a sleeping room and frequents titty bars. Good day!"
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