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Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

Monday, November 20, 2006

A Dilbert Moment

It was bound to happen at sometime. First, some background. I'm a freak. I happen to like mathematics. I relax by doing formula in my head. Yeah, it's weird inside there, deal.

I like to make change not so much challenging, but I strive to make my life simpler and my pockets less jangely, so I don't feel like my grandpa, whom always had change in his pockets. So when I was at a gas station today, and the bill came to $8.60 (Giant Eagle Gitgo, had $1.20 off, yes I waited until I had at least 8 gallons to pump). I went in a gave the clerk $20.10, thinking I'd trade up from a dime to two quarters; instead of having my dime, plus a quarter, extra dime and nickel. The clerk punches in the number on his digital register and gets a look of astonishment on his face. Don't say it, I think hard at him.

"How did you know it would come to $11.50?" he asked.

"Mathematics," I replied after a second, trying to keep from screaming. I see that this answer on confuses the clerk. "I used to make change before these new fangled digital thingies were around," I continue, and that seems to satisfy him.

I had to leave before I laughed out loud.

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