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Strangers


snowyday
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During the mid-afternoon lull at an English pub the senior bartender and his

assistant busied themselves polishing glassware. They could not help overhearing a

conversation between two men at a nearby table, the only customers in the place.

To say these gentlemen were inebriated would be mild euphemism. This is

what the bartenders heard:

“Where you from?â€

“The States.â€

“That’s a coincidence. So am I. What town?â€

“Chicago.â€

“Can you beat that? I’m from Chicago, too. What address?â€

“5710 Ellis Avenue.â€

“I can’t believe it. That’s where I live. What’s your apartment?â€

“Six.â€

“Say, this is uncanny. That’s my apartment.â€

The assistant barkeep couldn’t take any more and said to his superior:

“I can’t believe w’at I’m hearing.†Two blokes ‘appen to meet in an

English pub and both are from the States, the same town, same address,

an’ same apartment. W’at a miracle.â€

“Not such a miracle w’en ya know the background,†said the old-timer.

“W’en they first came in ‘ere an’ started drinkin’ two weeks ago they

wuz father an’ son.’

* * *

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