Mathmos or weirdos?

Lunchtime is generally supposed to be a relaxing experience, a brief interlude in an otherwise hectic existence. Not here.

For some reason (probably that I have no friends), I seated myself on a table with six mathematicians, affectionately referred to as 'Mathmos' here at Cambridge. For another (equally inexplicable reason) I swapped numbers with one of them. As it turned out, our numbers were fairly similar; mine begins, 07817 and his, 07857. The relevant detail is that we had five of the same digits in corresponding place on our numbers. Jokingly, I said, 'what are the chances?'

Normally, at this point, the response matches the stupidity of the question. Being instructed to **** off, I feel, would not have been unduly harsh. But no. Instead what followed was a detailed, self-absorbed, twenty-something minute-long calculation of the probabilities of this outcome. Meanwhile, I was still seated at the table as words (cf divided by four...factored to the power of three...) flew over my head.

Turns out it was one in 253. So I'm not so special after all