Tom had been in the liquor business for 25 years. Finally, sick of the
stress, he quits his job and buys fifty acres of land in Alaska, as far
from humanity as possible.
He sees the postman once a week and gets groceries once a month.
Otherwise, it's total peace and quiet.
One day after about nine months of almost total isolation, someone
knocks on his door. He opens it and a huge, bearded man is standing there.
"Name's Lars, your neighbor from forty miles up the road. Having a
Christmas party Friday night . . . thought you might like to come. About
5:00." "Great", says Tom, "after nine months out here I'm ready to meet some
local folks. Thank you." "Don't mention it," says Lars, as he leaves.
"Gotta warn you, though. There's gonna be some drinkin'."
"Not a problem," says Tom. "After 25 years in the business, I can drink
with the best of 'em."
Again pausing as he walks away, the big man says, "More than likely
gonna be some fightin', too."
"Well, I get along with people pretty well, and I can handle myself
anyway. I'll be there, thanks again," replies Tom.
"Most likely gonna be some wild lovin, too."
"Now, that's really not a problem," says Tom, excited about the
prospect. "I've been all alone for nine months, so I'll definitely be
there. By the way, what should I wear?"
"Don't much matter . . just gonna be the two of us."
