I walked into the kitchen. I stopped near the sink. I did not know why I was there. I looked at the cupboards. I looked at the stove. I did not need to cook. I did not need a glass of water. My mind was a blank space.

I stood in the middle of the room. This was a small failure. I forget my purpose often. I stay in the room until the purpose returns. It did not return.

Sarah walked into the kitchen. Sarah held a blue folder. The blue folder held the bank statements. Sarah sat at the wooden table. The wooden table had crumbs on it. I sat at the wooden table. I looked at the crumbs.

The Meaning of “Fine”

“How was the month?” Sarah asked.

“The month was fine,” I said.

“The month was a lot,” Sarah said.

I looked at Sarah. Sarah looked at the folder. I thought about the month. I thought about the coffee I bought. I thought about the gas for the car. I thought about the new shoes. The shoes were brown. The shoes were necessary.

I felt the month was fine. Sarah felt the month was a lot. We used different words. We used the words to describe the same thirty days. The thirty days did not change. The numbers in the blue folder did not change. Our words did not match.

We stayed in the kitchen. The kitchen was quiet. The clock on the wall made a sound. The sound was steady.

“What does fine mean?” Sarah asked.

“Fine means we have money left,” I said.

“What does a lot mean?” Sarah asked herself. “A lot means I felt stress. I felt stress when I saw the bill. The bill was for the electricity.”

The conversation became tense. The tension was in the air. The tension was in our shoulders. I did not want an argument. Sarah did not want an argument. We had the argument anyway. We had the argument because of the adjectives.

You cannot pay a bill with a feeling. You cannot measure a month with a feeling. Ten minutes passed. The argument grew. The argument was about the meaning of the words. I said “fine” again. Sarah said “a lot” again.

The Designer of Escape Rooms

We were both honest. We were both sincere. Sincerity does not fix a measurement failure. We lacked a unit. We lacked a shared scale.

Thomas T.-M. is a designer. Thomas designs escape rooms. Thomas builds rooms that people pay to leave. I talked to Thomas about his work. Thomas told me about the red box.

“The player tells Thomas the red box is ‘hard.’ Hard is an adjective. Thomas cannot use the word hard. Hard does not tell Thomas how to fix the box.”

Thomas uses a clock. Thomas measures the dwell time. Dwell time is the number of minutes a player stays at the red box. Thomas wants the dwell time to be four minutes. If the clock says six minutes, the box is wrong.

Thomas changes the box. He makes the box take four minutes. The number is the truth. The adjective is a guess. Thomas ignores the adjectives. Thomas follows the numbers. The numbers make the escape room work.

Most people do not like numbers. Numbers are cold. Numbers feel like a test. People prefer to use impressions. They use impressions for the grocery bill. They use impressions for entertainment.

An impression is a ghost. You cannot catch a ghost. You cannot agree on the size of a ghost. I looked at the blue folder. I opened the blue folder. I saw the paper inside. The paper had the list of costs.

I saw the cost of the shoes. I saw the cost of the dinner. I saw the cost of the games. Entertainment is a common place for ghosts. People spend money to feel good. They do not want to count the money while they feel good.

They play a game. They watch a show. They think the cost is okay. Then the month ends. The person sees the statement. The person feels surprised. The surprise leads to the argument. The argument leads to the tension in the kitchen.

Sight vs. Software

In the world of online entertainment, the ghost is the machine. You play a game on a screen. You see a result. You do not see the cause. You do not see the dealer. You do not see the cards. You have to trust the software.

Trust is an adjective. Trust is hard to maintain when you lose. Some people find a different way. They look for the physical fact. They look for the live feed.

They look for gclub because the platform uses cameras. The cameras show a room in Poipet. The room is a real room. The dealer is a real person.

The dealer shuffles the cards. The player sees the cards. The player sees the wheel spin. There is no software engine to guess about. There is only the video. The video is a fact. The video removes the need for trust.

Gclub has operated since 2004. It uses leading Thai banks for the money. The money moves through a system. The system is automated. The system is fast. These are facts.

A person can look at their account. They can see the deposit. They can see the limit. They can set a number for the month. The number is a wall. The wall keeps the adjectives out. Sarah looked at the paper. I looked at the paper.

“We spent four thousand baht on dinner,” Sarah said.

“Four thousand is a lot,” I said.

“Now you are using my word,” Sarah said.

“I am using the word for the number,” I said. “Before, I was using the word for my mood.”

My mood was good in July. I liked the sun. I liked my brown shoes. Because my mood was good, I used the word fine. Sarah was tired in July. Sarah worked late. Because Sarah was tired, she used the word a lot.

We were not talking about the money. We were talking about our lives. The money was just the excuse. This happens in every house. People argue about values. They think they have different goals.

They think one person is cheap. They think one person is wasteful. These are more adjectives. Usually, the people have the same goals. They want to be safe. They want to have fun. They want to eat well. The conflict is not the goal. The conflict is the scale.

If I say a box is heavy, you might disagree. You might lift the box and say it is light. We can argue for an hour. We can get angry. Or we can put the box on a scale.

The scale says ten kilograms. Ten kilograms is not heavy. Ten kilograms is not light. Ten kilograms is ten kilograms. The argument dies. Shared numbers are not romantic. A budget is not a poem.

But a budget is a peace treaty. A peace treaty is better than a poem when you are in a kitchen at night. I decided to change my vocabulary. I decided to stop using adjectives for the money.

I told Sarah we should pick a number. We picked a number for the food. We picked a number for the fun. We picked a number for the shoes.

The number is a tool. It is like the camera in the casino in Poipet. It shows you what is happening. It stops the guessing. When you stop guessing, you stop fighting.

I still forget why I walk into rooms. I walked into the bedroom later that night. I stood by the bed. I did not know why I was there. I looked at the lamp. I looked at the window. Sarah was there.

“Did you forget something?” Sarah asked.

“I forgot the reason for being here,” I said.

“The reason is sleep,” Sarah said.

Sleep is a good reason. Sleep is a fact. I got into the bed. The bed was firm. The sheets were white. I did not use an adjective to describe the sleep. I just did the sleep.

The next month started on a Wednesday. The month was August. I did not say the month would be fine. I did not say the month would be a lot. I said the month would be twelve thousand. Sarah agreed.

Twelve thousand is a number we both understand. We do not need to define twelve thousand. We do not need to argue about the weight of a digit.

We sat in the kitchen again. The blue folder was on the table. The table was clean. I had wiped the crumbs. The kitchen was quiet. The quiet was a good quiet. It was the quiet of a room where the measurements are finished.