So there I am — two gorgeous women in my apartment — but let’s rewind before you start making assumptions (or, well, keep making them).

I’m stepping out for a walk, sunglasses on, doing my best “mysterious man with somewhere important to be” impression.

On the steps outside: Jan and Pat.

Jan’s holding a napkin to her forehead like she’s been in a bar fight with Cupid.

Pat explains, “She took a fall.”

A nose dive.

Straight into the sidewalk.

Headfirst into the arms of gravity, possibly love.

(If I had to psychoanalyze, I’d guess avoidant attachment style — the kind where she only lets someone in after blunt force trauma breaks down her walls… and nearly her nose. Two birds, one stone.)

Her forehead’s scraped, nose tender, glasses scuffed, basically, she’s been introduced to the pavement in a biblical way.

So I offer the gentleman’s solution: “Ladies, if you need to freshen up, my place is right here.”

Zero hesitation. They were delighted.

I lead them inside.

Show them the bathroom.

Take the bloody napkin (chivalry is not dead — it just smells faintly of antiseptic).

Hand over a first aid kit.

Offer them water and passion (they looked thirsty...hydration… and maybe curiosity.)

Jan gets patched up.

Then it happens:

"So... Dalton.... can you tell us about the double slit experiment?"

Naturally, I took a deep breathe. It's not everyday someone asks.

"Why tell you, when I can show you?"

The Double Slit Experiment

Let me give you the science in the after-dark version.

I whipped this out:

Back in the day, Dr. Quantum was shooting beams through a couple slits. (Relax, they were being professional about it… mostly.)

They expected to get two clean, straight lines on the wall behind. But instead, they got a wild, messy spread, a wave pattern.

All over the place.

This meant light wasn’t acting like well-behaved little particles.

No, light was loose.

Experimental.

It didn’t just choose one slit,

it went for both at once.

Naughty, naughty photons.

So the scientists slowed things down,

one photon at a time.

Even then, the same spread happened.

It was like each photon couldn’t commit to just one path.

But here’s where it gets… personal:

The second they started watching,

really watching.

the photons straightened up.

No more wild waves.

No more double action.

Just straight lines.

Observation changed their behavior.

Light needs an observer to shape up.

The observer puts the photons in their place, just by watching.

Bending reality.

And when you’re a shining your light?

The moment the right pair of eyes locks on you,

you collapse from infinite possibilities into one undeniable reality.

With Jan and Pat in my apartment, I realized something,

Maybe we’re all just particles until someone notices…

and once they do, the experiment’s over.

The wave’s collapsed.

You’ve been measured.

And now, baby, you’re in the record books, (or in this case, pinned to a wall.)

And If you're going to shine your light,

Rhythm and waves have the greatest impact.

Sponsored by Bill Nye, the Science Guy