The precise amount of time it takes the car behind you to beep its horn after a traffic light you’re waiting at turns from red to green.
The optimum angle that you can pile food at on a single plate at brunch before it starts to slide off.
The minimum length of time you need to spend looking at artworks in an exhibition on opening night before you can reasonably go and eat the free canapés.
The minimum amount of time you have to linger in a sauna when somebody else arrives so that it doesn’t look like you’re exiting just because they arrived. Even though you clearly are.
The precise amount of energy an estate agent will put into finding you a new apartment, before demanding a five percent finder’s fee when you sign a contract. Despite the fact that you personally walked to around 40 buildings across New Dubai and arranged every visit yourself, you’ll have to pay anyway.
An imaginary figure calculated by adding money you don’t have to a promise you can’t keep and multiplying it by time you would never spend. Most commonly, it’s a number arrived at by calculating how much richer you’d be if you took the Metro every day instead of taxis. Although seemingly based on simple a mathematical formula, it’s entirely fictional.
The number of times you can visit the dessert counter at brunch before the chefs and your guests realise just how greedy you are.
The minimum length of time that you need to fall asleep for during a massage, before you wake up disorientated with absolutely no knowledge of where you are or why you’re wearing disposable underwear.
(Arm’s length x number of people) + vanity2 ÷ (Banter – importance)
This is a complex formula, and one that is used to decide exactly how many people can squeeze into one single selfie before it becomes more practical to just ask a passerby to take the photo instead.
How long a delivery driver will take to arrive when they claim to be just five minutes away.
How long a delivery driver will take to arrive when they say they won’t be there for 15 minutes so you have plenty of time to go to the bank.
90 to 100 decibels
The level of noise your popcorn rustling and munching makes when you’re trying to be quiet in a cinema. Approximately the same as a jumbo jet during take-off or an upstairs neighbour moving furniture in an apartment after 11pm.
The sprint speed a barefoot holidaymaker can reach when crossing a scorching stretch of sand to reach the sea. If it were not for the hopping and arm flapping, it is likely they would surpass Usain Bolt’s 44.2kph.
Average number of deleted shots an Instagrammer takes before sharing a carefully stage-managed picture of their perfectly coiffured hair with the caption: #mylife #wokeuplikethis #natural #love #impulsive.
Will Milner is a contributing editor. He pitches ideas on the back of a napkin.