A real Quaker (PG)
There was a clerk in a small town general store in the South. One day, a tall man entered the store and began filling a shopping cart with items.
This man was so distinctive in that he could have been the official spokesperson for Quaker Oats. He was dressed in black, very tall and had that hat just like the Quaker Oats guy wears.
Well, the clerk had never seen a Quaker before, let alone talked to one. When the man reached the counter with his selections the clerk could hardly contain himself. "Are you a Quaker"? he asked as he was trying to ring up the merchandise.
"Yes," the tall man said with a little edge in his voice.
"No joke?" asked the clerk, "You're really a real Quaker?"
The man, looking a little more perturbed, said, "Yes, I am a real Quaker."
"Wow!" the young clerk said, "I never seen a real Quaker before. Would you say something in Quaker talk for me?" asked the clerk.
The tall man ignored this request and waited for his merchandise to be tallied up.
As clerk finished ringing up the sale he said, "Please mister, say something in Quaker talk?"
The man finally leaned over the counter in a gesture of secrecy. The clerk leaned forward in order to hear the quiet reply.
The man said, "Screw Thee."
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Mundane Journeys through an Amazing World
begins with Interstate 80. Not the most engaging topic, I know, but when you think about it, I-80 runs all the way across the North American continent linking San Francisco and New York. It's not just a ribbon of asphalt, it's a portal to far away, almost magical places.
My visits to major cities like Tokyo, London and Washington DC have been business affairs. I haven't rode a lot of roller coasters or ridden in open air buses, but I have visited with senators, bought yams from the back of a truck and barely escaped complete embarrassment when I was introduced to Matt Wiener in Vegas.
As I wrote the book I realized that over the years exotic, distant places have become more like the mundane places I've called home. But, as it turns out, there really aren't any mundane places, only mundane ways of looking at things.
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