Two Shoppers and one Male - III

Part 3: Putting numbers in perspective.

(Scroll down for Part 1 and Part 2 before you read this)

Saturdays can be long. Yesterday was the longest I have encountered in quite sometime. The third leg of my voyage into the den of metropolitan-womanhood landed me in the confines of Lovely-M and Rare-Flower's home. This was my first chance to observe a functional woman-storage device, replete with unmarried young female inmates. It was dusty, had ceiling-fans and all, there was a refrigerator, a microwave, beds on four legs... pretty much the kind of things you encounter in normal human homes. But this was, afterall, a woman-storage device; and I had to ensure I did not fall for the obvious looking traps.

Lets not get into what was the primary purpose of my visit, lets just get down to why there has to be a part 3 to the adventure. Lovely-M had to attend to her friend's boyfriend's parents' Marriage Anniversary, and had to get ready in 20 minutes sharp. So now my educational tour promised a live demonstration of how the woman-storage device produces party-ready women in twenty-minute time constraints.

Lovely-M jumped like a cat onto a pile of clean clothes, vanished with what they call in phylum-female terminology a salwar suit, and re-appeared draped in it. Now normal human psyche would govern that you next put on your shoes, and leave for the evening get-together. But then this was a woman here. And in a woman-storage device replete with unmarried young female fellow inmates. Therefore, as though obliged to serve at their positions responsibly, Rare-Flower and The-Third-Inmate quickly appeared on the scene, and inspected Lovely-M. 'Nope, this sucks.', was The-Third-Inmate's conclusion. 'Yep it does, lemme find you something.' was Rare-flower's rejoinder.

Rare-flower whipped out a something, which Lovely-M quickly snapped up and vanished. Emerged moments later, re-dressed and anxious. 'What now?', said she. 'Nope, not done. A bit too forward-going for a gathering of the sort in question.', said one amongst Rare-Flower and The-Third-Inmate. So there she went, tearing down the hallway with another something, desparate to try it out. Emerged again, this time 'round inviting lesser noises from the fellow-inmates.

I, as one with a feeble woman-intellect, stared on in disbelief. I mean, How can any mortal creature - even a woman - actually spend time being confused between CLOTHES to wear, of all things? There were several to-and-fro wear-and-rewear iterations, and finally something was finalized upon. And with an initial commitment to twenty minutes, it was all over in a fairly allowable 34 minutes. Spellbound is how I can describe my emotions in the least. Rare-flower was all through suggesting that I try not to listen and observe; she could notice my visible awe and shock at the happenings.

Anyways, women and their clothes. I am an erstwhile-statistician, and here's my key take-away from the observations last evening:

The Law of Marginal Confusion, if there was such a thing would go something like this: "A stable equilibriated woman-storage device, when imposed upon with the problem of party-dressing-an-inmate, shall iteratively converge to a solution in finite time, assuming of course, that the number of inmates is a constant and the number of available clothes is an integral number nowhere near infinity."

Corollary to the Law of Marginal Confusion: "The time taken for the convergence to a non-divergent stable solution, will be directly proportional to the number of inmates involved in helping the party-animal-inmate and shall exponentially vary as the number of clothes each one contributes to the cause of the party-dressing-an-inmate problem."

I shall leave the proofs to be figured out by the jobless few such as yours sincerely, for, given my feeble woman-intellect, I can merely assert hypotheses and frame conjectures. Proofs shall follow from the Smarter Few.