Professional numbers pushers seldom calculate senses of humor into their additions and subtractions. Don’t look for the abstract or expect to draw conclusions from innuendo or inferences. The numbers they push, pull, and reconvert into fractions and decimals are done so with purpose and meaning. They line them up then split them apart to assign to them their just due importance. It should not surprise that they expect this black and white divinity to carry over into the rest of their lives. Those who assign importance, summarize, deduct, collate and compute the numbers in a free fall dive without a chute or any other objections but the bottom line expect respect from fate. Fidgeting and tweaking, pulling up or marking down, isolating and specifically allocation all or none in their blind quest to arrive at zero, sums balance also means they expect to find Tuesday’s acting like Tuesdays and Fridays all the same. No shades of gray in numbers that at best can only fib never lie. So as he sat there with his feet dangling off of the exam table in the sterile cubicle four foot six inches wide by seven foot three inches high, by eight foot nine inches deep, his calculations and the voice speaking to him were of two different worlds. “We got it early; your sun exposure is probably what caused this.” But his mind said, “I am an accountant, I have not been in the sun for years!” How is this possible? His thoughts returned to his own cubicle and the wall calendar from Sharp the calculator maker. Twelve models of calculators posed in places they did not belong; one on the beach, one on a car another blacktop. He felt like the EL256, perched atop a wastebasket full of pertly crumbled papers.