"My mentor and I read to each other from the CRC Standard Mathematical Tables and Formulae every afternoon."
"As I wrote earlier, the photo is that of my flirtatious twin, Ariette. My mentor is a real man -- both Ariette and I swoon when he recites the natural number to 47 decimal places."
Pipette was speaking to me in code:
mentor .... reads dreary math tome that would put Sominex out of business .... every afternoon
Translation: My mentor is snoozing every afternoon and I am bored to death.
Of course! How was I silly enough to even consider the preposterous idea that vivacious young women sit around reading old math books for fun?
"the photo is that of my flirtatious twin, Ariette.
Translation: There is a wild child side to me that I must hide.
Naturally! This twin, Ariette, only made her appearance after the mentor became desperate to shield the beauty of Pipette from the outside world.
"My mentor is a real man -- both Ariette and I swoon when he recites the natural number to 47 decimal places."
This one took a while to decode, but beginning with the proposition that Pipette is as brilliant as she is beautiful, I compared "real" with what I know about the "man", and "47 decimal places."
The mentor is an economist, a modern day caster of bones and reader of tea leaves, if you will. What possible use would he have for 47 decimal places? Pipette was telling me that her words were meant to gently assuage her mentor's ego, as there is nothing natural about reciting 47 decimal places to women with hungry eyes. I have heard of some twisted variations of pleasure, but this is a manifestation of some sickening prime number depravity.
Once certain I had unlocked the mystery of Pipette, I made my plans. As you will note, my last communication to Pipette was, on the surface prim, proper, conciliatory and faintly exculpatory--while reassuring Pipette that I was fully aware of her flirtatious nature and boredom. Asking for her sister's email address was a master stroke of misdirection aimed at allaying the fears of her mentor.
Dear Pipette,
Perhaps I misunderstood your offer of a "sample deviation?"
There have been a number of multiple personalities expressed here. I truly thought your "twin" was your very own flirtatious alter ego subconsciously attempting to escape the boredom of reading dusty math tomes, and listening to your mentor recite the natural number to the 47 decimal place.
Yours in Science,
dave1949
PS May I have your twin sister's email address?
Being a true gentleman, I will not be sharing any of the more salacious details of my afternoon of delight behind the DNA Sequencer. Suffice it to say my well-laid plans came to sweet fruition; Pipette loved the flowers and we spent the afternoon feeding each other milk chocolate dipped strawberries. The only detraction from the experience was that of someone snoring annoyingly in the distance.