Welcoming committee

January 27, 2011
By

Sam has been in the computer business for 25 years and is finally sick of the stress. He quits his job and buys a block of land in an isolated part of the West Coast, as far from humanity as possible. Sam sees the postman once a week and gets groceries once a month. Otherwise it’s total peace and quiet.

After six months or so of almost total isolation, he’s finishing dinner when someone knocks on his door. He opens it and there stands a big, bearded local. “Name’s Enoch, your neighbor from four miles over the ridge. Having a party Saturday, thought you’d like to come.”

“Great,” says Sam, “after six months of this I’m ready to meet some local folks. Thank you.”

As Enoch is leaving he stops, “Gotta warn you there’s gonna be some drinkin’.”

“Not a problem. After 25 years in the computer business, I can drink with the best of ‘em.”

Again, as he starts to leave Enoch stops. “More’n likely gonna be some fightin’ too.”

Damn, Sam thinks…tough crowd. “Well, I get along well with people. I’ll be there. Thanks again.”

Once again Enoch turns from the door. “I’ve seen some wild sex at these parties, too.”

“Now that’s not a problem”, says Sam. “Remember, I’ve been alone for six months. By the way, what should I wear?

Enoch stops in the door again and says, “Whatever you want, just gonna be the two of us.”

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Jillian "George" Allison-Aitken

I live in the deep south of New Zealand, where smelly dairy cows are taking over from sheep in the livestock stakes. My hometown is the small but perfectly formed city of Invercargill, which is also the hometown of the original boy racer, Burt Munro. Find out more about me here.

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