Ugh. Just imagine.
There you are, a mathematician. And you’re out at some bar where your friends dragged you (and you were all like, but guys if I wanted to asymptotically approach having a relationship I’d call my parents!!! LOL!!!) and then whoa. Is that? Can it be?
It’s Steffi Graf.
Also for the sake of this story let’s say it’s like 1987, her freaking breakout year.
Anyway she comes up to YOU. Yes, YOU. And she’s like, hey.
And you’re like, woah!, it’s you!, can you sign this?
And she’s like *draws a sin wave*.
HEART EXPLODES. It’s a year later, you’re married. She’s an all star, you’re just a mathematician, right?
Ugh. So lame.
But wait, you’re part of a cutting edge research team. And you’re researching
And you’re graphing the results. Wait, what? Is that the Nobel committee knocking, too?
You’re seriously getting a Nobel for your creation of the STEPHI GRAPH!?!
And you take it home to your wife, Steffi Graph, and you’re like, ‘BABE! LOOK!’
And she’s like, ‘how many times do I have to tell you, my name is spelled with F’s you moron.’
Oh man. Wouldn’t that be the best!?
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