Probability Theory

By Nadezhda Bezuevskaia

What is the probability that, being born on a planet with surface area of 510,100,000 km²[1] and a population of about eight billion people, you would one day meet your soulmate?

Please, stop counting, my friend – it is clear anyway that the chances are not that great. Although there is always a naive hope for romantic success.

Lucia also asked this question, looking at the window of a tea store with a rather tricky name - TeeGschwendner. Wow! Try to pronounce it: “Tay-Shvend-ner”, probably?! However, it was 9:45 a.m. on her first working day as a cashier, and her co-worker was expected to arrive any minute as the store opened for customers at 10:00 a.m.

Lucia glanced at the round clock on the brick wall above the window display with the large inscription “Tee” under it. The time seemed to freeze on the clock face. Despite the real time, all three dials – a big one and two little ones inside it – showed 1 hour, 43 minutes, and 41 seconds.

Having admired her new place of work, Lucia moved a little to the right to enjoy the window of the neighboring organic cosmetics store, whose range of skin care products attracted the girl much more than tea. Still, Lucia was happy to find a part-time job with enough flexibility to continue studying sociology at Heidelberg University, where she had just transferred. Although Lucia was not a big spender, her scholarship would only cover half the cost of renting an apartment, so, the girl had to look for some job with a suitable schedule.

9:48 a.m.

Lucia was still looking at the bright tubes and jars of creams with unaffordable price tags, when her colleague Nina came running, holding a branded thermos with an unpronounceable name in her left hand, and with her right hand trying to find the keys to the store in her purse. Finally, she succeeded, and the girls went inside.

At that very time, Tim left his bicycle on Ziegelgasse at the photo studio, under a gray sign with the laconic name “Fotograf,” where he worked as such. He glanced at the hot pink wooden chairs and table with a vase of flowers of the same shade which belonged to the frozen yogurt shop opposite his studio, and, deciding that he would probably prefer to drink something warm on that cool morning, he walked up the street towards Hauptstraße.

For five years now, Tim's morning route has been the same: before work, he bought a cup of coffee at Café Extrablatt on Hauptstraße, and then returned to the studio to do professional photo shoots. He did not forget to take his assistant a cup of cappuccino too. It was shaping up to be a busy day; his schedule was almost full, and since Tim also worked for a local news website, he wanted to report on the upcoming women's rights demonstration that was scheduled to take place later that day.

10:05 a.m.

Nina was teaching Lucia how to use the cash register and beautifully wrap tea for gifts when the latter received a call. It was her ex-boyfriend who bothered Lucia from time to time, asking her for forgiveness and admitting that he acted like a complete jerk by not telling her that he was married when they started dating. When meeting Lucia, he simply took off his wedding ring and hid it in his pocket.

However, one day, as Lucia walked past a café in their neighborhood in Rome, she witnessed her shameless beloved kissing his wife (who else could that be?), and a huge gold ring glittered on his left annular finger. It seemed that the cheater sensed something, halted the kiss, and turned his gaze toward Lucia. The girl's brief but icy glance unnerved the man. Probably, he continued to watch her as she walked away, without even knowing that deep down, Lucia's instantly frozen heart had broken into numerous shards.

That day, in an effort to save herself and put her heart back together, Lucia decided to urgently transfer to another university, in another city or even country, and chose Heidelberg in Germany, where she arrived before the start of the new semester.

Now, Lucia excused herself and went into the back room to tell the cheater that she would block him if he continued to call her. She could not understand why she had not done that before.

While running a little late, Tim was passing by the TeeGschwendner teahouse, which autumn themed display window caught his attention. He decided to stop by and quickly browse the selection of teas since he needed to bring some gifts to his friend's family, whom he was invited to visit over that coming weekend. So, Tim entered the store, greeted by the delightful aroma of a tea bouquet with dried flower petals, berries, and sugar candies. With Nina's assistance, he was selecting a pack of two teas accompanied by a branded mug and a fancy chocolate bar when emotional Italian speech was heard from the back room.

“Non chiamarmi più!” That obviously meant nothing good.

Tim did not have time to satisfy his curiosity about what was going on in the back room; he was already very late for work and, loaded with two cups of cooling coffee and a tea gift, the photographer ran out into the street.

10:18 a.m.

Lucia returned to the main hall, annoyed by the call.

“You seem to have frightened the customer with your screams.” Nina said indignantly. “He just ran away.”

“I am sorry, I had to answer the phone,” Lucia sighed sadly, and then added, “Could you really hear me from there?”

“Very clearly, yes,” Nina replied.

“Sorry, this won't happen again,” Lucia said, her cheeks burning. She felt embarrassed and decided to change the subject. “Do you know a good photo studio nearby? I need to take photos for my student ID.”

“Yes, sure. There is one studio on Ziegelgasse. A minute's walk from here: when exiting, go right, then straight along Hauptstraße and then turn left at the first intersection. You can go there during your lunch break,” Nina said, softening a little.

“Ok, thanks. Great.”

12:55 p.m.

Tim and his assistant Markus left the studio to have lunch at Café Extrablatt. The weather was sunny and still warm, although it was already the end of September. The café was a popular spot among Heidelberg residents and visitors, offering its customers the opportunity to sit outside and enjoy the gentle autumn sun. Tim and Markus found a vacant table and ordered lunch. Tim glanced at the giant clock above the teahouse on the opposite side of the street, which still read 1 hour, 43 minutes, and 41 seconds.

The café was also famous for its fast service, and as if to prove that, the waiter had already appeared with drinks for the young people – two glasses of homemade lemonade with ice, while blocking their view of the clock and part of the street.

Lucia was allowed to go on her lunch break. She had a meeting with her roommate Laura, who was also a student at Heidelberg University. They agreed to catch up at the Zeughaus-Mensa im Marstall, a large student canteen housed in a medieval sandstone building framed by watchtowers on the banks of the Neckar River.

In theory, Lucia's route included a visit to a photo studio. In practice, the studio was closed for lunch because Tim and Markus decided to eat together that day. Lucia felt somewhat upset, but continued her way towards the student canteen. Glancing for a second at the hot pink café furniture opposite the photo studio, she continued strolling down Ziegelgasse, turned right, and proceeded along Untere Neckarstraße, and then straight through the ancient gate into the patio. Lucia walked up a few steps, turned left, and entered the building. There, in an atmosphere of lively and sophisticated student discussions, to the sound of cutlery scraping on plates, Laura was already waiting for her.

1:43 p.m.

Markus returned to the studio just in time as Lucia was heading to the tea shop after her lunch break and decided to just try again and take photos for her student ID while Tim had a private outdoor photo shoot at the majestic Heidelberg Castle, so he headed in that direction, allowing Markus to serve customers in the studio.

“You just missed my boss,” Markus said when Lucia asked about her photo session.

“That's a pity,” she sighed. “Probably, I am not fated to be photographed today.”

“Look, I am a beginner photographer. So, if you don't mind, I can take a photo of you,” Markus said.

“Yes, please. I just need a simple picture for my student card. Thank you.”

Lucia looked at the black and white photographs of professional models hanging on the walls of the room.

“Are those your boss's works?” she asked.

“Yes, they are Tim's.”

Tim was born in Toronto, Canada, and his life followed a standard pattern: after graduating from high school, he began studying art history at the University of Toronto in Mississauga. Always fascinated by beauty and its creative expressions, Tim decided to hit the road after receiving his Bachelor of Arts degree, eager to travel all over Europe and see with his own eyes what his four years of study were all about.

That was... wait, five years ago already. Time flies.

On his way from Vienna to Frankfurt, he visited Heidelberg and fell in love with this marvelous fairy-tale city. Tim decided to stay there. He continued studying photography and art, worked part-time, and eventually opened his own photo studio. He sometimes gave priority to his private side projects and, in his own words, "thus giving his assistant Marcus the opportunity to prove himself in the studio."

4:05 p.m.

The drums, whistles and chants for women's rights grew louder and closer. The demonstrators walked along Hauptstraße. Tim was waiting for them at the fountain in order to take photos for the local news portal.

Lucia was also curious about the event. She stood at the threshold of the teahouse, looked at the crowd and took pictures with her smartphone for her social network account. The demonstrators were already passing TeeGschwendner.

On the other side of Hauptstraße, Tim was eager to take the perfect photo.

Satisfied with the unexpected distraction from the outside, Lucia returned into the shop, her face buried in her phone as she uploaded pictures.

Tim continued walking along the demonstration towards Universitätsplatz, or University Square.

6:30 p.m.

Lucia was busily waiting, there were still 30 minutes left before the store closed. The customers were coming and going. Autumn has arrived and everyone wanted to purchase perfect tea for the upcoming cold and sometimes nasty weather. The September sun could no longer deceive anyone.

Tim was also waiting, but only for his next date from a dating app. He ordered an iced coffee and took a table at the back of the Coffee Fellows café, which was ideally located on Steingasse, a mere hundred meters from the Old Bridge - Alte Brücke.

To pass the lonely time, the young man was examining all the details of the café's decor: the walls and the stained glass windows were painted with whimsical fairy-tale characters. In the right corner of the far room called Goethe-Zimmer, there was an old tiled stove, with a row of books on it including Faust. They say that on August 25, 1797, the greatest genius Goethe himself was going to spend the night on the spot, but the house was full.

Tim's date there was not going well either. The girl was not just running late, it seemed that she would not show up at all. Tim ordered a bagel with salmon and cream cheese, and later took a walk to the river.

7:20 p.m.

Lucia completed her first working day and was very proud of herself. She decided to walk along Hauptstraße towards the Marktplatz and then around the monumental red brick Heiliggeistkirche, or The Church of the Holy Spirit, where she was distracted for a few moments by the sunlight playing off the church's Gothic stained glass windows.

Lucia decided to celebrate the start of her new life with a giant cone of vanilla and chocolate Italian gelato on the crowded Steingasse and, enjoying her dessert, she headed towards the Old Bridge. She entered the bridge gate between two white-striped round towers with domed roofs and weather vanes. Lucia stopped in the middle of the bridge and leaned on the bridge railing.

Tim felt frustrated and disappointed. The potential date finally texted to apologize for not being able to make it that day. “Not meant for me then,” thought Tim. “Whatever.” He gazed at the horizon.

The sun began to set down and the sky turned bright pink. Tim took out his camera he always carried with him and started taking pictures. Lucia also decided that, probably, that marvelous view was worth photographing, and, holding the melting vanilla and chocolate ice cream in one hand, she tried to take her phone out of her purse.

“Dammit, entschuldigung!”

What are the odds that while standing on a bridge and photographing a stunning September sunset, someone's vanilla and chocolate ice cream would accidentally fall on you?

[1] Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, “Earth”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earth .