I’m the manager of a concession stand in an amusement park. We have hot dogs that are much larger than your average one; each one is a foot long. We call them Bubba dogs. A customer is staring at the menu, holding up the line for everyone else while her family stands silently.
Guest: “What’s a Bubba dog?”
Me: “That’s our footlong, all-beef hot dog! They’re in that case right there; you can see them!”
Guest: “But how big are they?”
Me: “A foot long, ma’am.”
Guest: *Stares* “So, how big is that?”
Me: *Faltering* “Um, about this big?”
I hold my hands a rough distance apart. The guest’s mother and husband are looking exasperated at this point, and each of them chimes in.
Mother: “It’s twelve inches, dear.”
Husband: “Honey, she just said it’s a foot!”
Guest: “Listen, it’s math! Math was never my strong point!”
I have no idea what to do so I weakly gesture, again, to the clear glass case right next to us with the Bubba dogs in it. The guest looks at them and obviously just now realizes her obliviousness.
Guest: “Oh, that’s too big! Just give me a regular hot dog.”
After they received their food and walked away, I could still hear her protesting to her family that “math was never her strong point.”
