I was waiting at a rainy bus stop this morning, huddled beneath a flimsy shelter with several other refugees (or should I say evacuees?) After several minutes we began grumbling to each other about the bus service.
"It's really coming down," observed a lady in the corner.
"It's been a long time since the last bus," said one man wearing a nice looking trench coat as he checked his watch.
"They must be on the rainy day schedule," said someone else.
"What's that?" I asked.
"You take the number of busses that would normally come, divide by the number of inches of rain that falls, and the result is the number of busses that will actual come."
"So if you would normally get 8 bussed an hour and it rains two inches you would only get 4 busses?" asked the lady in the corner.
"Right."
"Except," said an elderly gentleman standing at the edge of the shelter, "you must deduct one bus for each person who can't fit under the shelter."
"And counting you there are..." - I did a quick count - "...three people out in the rain," I said. "So now we're down to only one bus an hour!"
"Well," said the elderly gentleman, dripping sarcasm as well as rain, "you could improve the odds if you'd all squeeze in and let us underneath."
That's what we did, and sure enough a few minutes later a bus came. Unfortunately, it was full and sped right by without slowing down. It did manage to splash several of us, though.
We stood there looking at our soggy shoes then glared at the man who had brought up the cockamamie rainy bus schedule.
"Of course," he explained, "there is an exception to every rule."
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