Socks and stats
So, you’re in a temporary rut where your dryer is functioning as your dresser? We’ve all been there.
Or maybe you’re just like this. I won’t judge.
Whilst cursing the cold concrete floor of your basement, you poke your head into the metal box with undersea submarine windows.
The “single-issue” items (pants, shirt, skivvies) are easy to find. Then, you go for the socks. You find one.
Nice.
Now, unless you have literally never gotten dressed straight out of the dryer, you already know where I’m going with this. What about the matching sock?
What indeed.
Are you Luke Danes, the lovable diner owner from Stars Hollow who buys the exact same socks, in bulk?
Do you use one of those nifty mesh laundry bags that keep all your chaotic, devilish undergarments wrangled in a single tidy package?
Well, since those were both obviously no, then you’re stuck with statistics, and increasingly colder feet.
Assuming new socks every day, 3-4 staple variations, and the laundry schedule of someone operating out of the dryer, it’s unlikely that you find the matching sock on the first try.
So you continue rummaging.
If you’ve got your wits about you, you’ll make sure you grab every sock, increasing which increases chances of finding a matching pair, i.e., the Tinder strategy of hosiery.
The “lesson” in this foolishness is this: statistics and random chance are not your friend.
They’re also not, not your friend. They’re...just not that into you, or anyone really.
“Thinking in bets” and remembering the dispassionate nature of chance is quite challenging. We rely on stories and connection most of the time, and often these two modes clash.
But, if we do want to stick it to the statistical man, our three fundamental options are: be boring, be clever, or like, invest in a mesh bag.