Rich People…

…are bad at math.

I will tell you why.

Remember how I’m planning a surprise for Atticus at a place rich people go in the summer to catch salmon and golf and eat foods where the descriptions of the foods have more words than the actual number of foods on your plate?

That sentence was weird.  Here’s what I’m saying:

Poor people food description words < Poor people foods on plate


Rich people food description words > Rich people food on plate


Poor people food description: “Hamburger”

Poor people food on plateHamburger, bread, lettuce, mayo, mustard, pickle, one ton of french fries, partridge in pear tree

Rich people food description:  “White peppercorn-crusted hand-caught Chesapeake Bay striped sea bass, lightly spritzed with imported Serrano lemon and served with a cacophony of crisp, nutty, organic spring vegetables on a bed of Greek-style, basil-infused orzo.” 

Rich people food on plate: Fish, lettuce, rice

Lettuce, tomatoes, and peanuts? You might think so, just by looking at this. But actually it would take a novel to describe this delicacy.

See.  It just doesn’t make sense!  It’s sort of like Rich People want to be cheated out of their money.  They read this ridiculously long paragraph of description and get a dime-sized circle of mashed turnips for $25 and they’re like:

“HOORAY!  I’m Rich!”

Missing the math skills…  Very sad.  Don’t stare or point at the Rich People.

But, you see, the Poor People…we have the math skills.  And sometimes, the Poor People are put in situations that make us feel like we’re taking advantage of the Rich People.

Like today, this is what happened.

Rich People Resort: Hello.  How can I help you?

Me: I would like to make a reservation for a secret, surprise weekend of magic.

RPR:  Very good, madame.  And what accommodations would you prefer?

Me: Could you give me a run-down of your magic weekend rates?

RPR: Of course, your grace.  You can have one bed for $52453.  Or, you could have two beds for $34.

Me: I’m sorry.  Are you saying that one bed costs $52000, but I could double that for $34 instead?

RPR: $52453 for the single bed.  $34 for two.  Yes.

Me: You’re kidding, right?

RPR: Only if you’d like me to.

Me: So…  Two beds are less than one bed?

RPR: Yes.

Me: Can I have two beds then?  For less than one bed?

RPR: Yes.  And we invite you to enjoy our complimentary Hors d’oeuvres hour where we will be serving Chilled Baby Cantalopes, the rind peeled with diamond knives, wrapped in a…

Me: Sounds good!  Thank you.  Goodbye!



Filed under Hobbies and Such

8 responses to “Rich People…

  1. This may be my favorite post you have ever written. Worlds without end, amen.

    Also: I just finished re-reading From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler and there’s that part at the end where she serves the kids nouilles et fromage en casserole and the little girl’s all disappointed that it’s just plain ol’ mac-n-cheese.

    Also: this is one reason why I have to call spaghetti “long noodles” in our house because Adam OD’d on spaghetti on his mission and refuses to eat it now. Unless I call it “long noodles.”

    The end.

  2. The Mom

    This is soooooooooooooo great! I was going to sneak a nap in today, but I can’t stop giggling. So I think I will drive on down to pick up Natalie and stop for a Hamburger and fries :)

  3. danosaur

    Excellent. I wonder if there is some algorithm that would model this phenomenon of the inverse relationship between # of words in description and amount of food served.

    Also, what you had asked for a room with three beds? Or FOUR? Do you think they would pay you to come stay at their resort?!

  4. Pinto

    Most likely. But my conscience intervenes.

  5. Hilarious, Pinto! I still remember the Scottish comedian (forgot his name) who dissected a riche menu, and pointed out that the duck was resting comfortably on a bed of lettuce. WHAT DOES THE DUCK CARE?? HE’S DEAD!

    Also reminds me of the Monty Python sketch:

  6. Pinto

    Orin: baaahahah

  7. Pinto

    Oh! Oh! And it also reminds me how I once heard a wine critic say that a particular glass had “hints of toast.”

  8. Pingback: Six Month « Pinto's Beans

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