I have had a lot of math education. A lot. Ridiculous amounts. Seriously, enough to be a math major. And here's the thing: I suck at math. No, sucking at math would be a huge improvement. I aspire to suck at math. Algebra, Calculus, all of it was torturous and I hated all of it with a white hot, seething, growling Cujo intensity.*
I'm not even good with basic arithmetic. To this day, I calculate tips with a calculator and, sometimes, I still get it wrong. It would be so easy to grift me.
Me: Just tell me what I owe.
You, looking at bill: Let's see, we each had a beer and I had the nachos. You owe $6,000.
I have no number skills and no number memory.
You: Remember this number: 4,312.
Me: What? What number?
Me: Do I have to?
You: Yes. It's 4,312.
Me: Four what?
Me, sweating: It had an eight, right?
You: *walking away, disgusted* **
The only math class I liked was Geometry. Where I suck with the numbers, I'm all over the shapes. I'm a first class fitter-inner. Spatial puzzles? No probs. Predict the missing part? I can do that.
I can tell if the car will fit into the parking space. I know if the TV will fit into the car trunk and how to orient it. I can tell if the hall carpet is big enough to roll the dead, bloated body in. I can pick the perfect size pan or container to put leftovers in. The perfect size. I am the Rainman of spatial relations. Like most of my other skills, I don't know how I can use this to get money, but I'm very proud of it, all the same.
* You would think this immense suckitude would make me more sympathetic to other people's limitations. Not even a little bit.
** That's cold, Man. Cold.