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Nowhere, Vermont

Sam had been in the hectic newspaper business for twenty-five years when he decided that he was sick of the stress and quit his job. He bought 50 acres of land in the middle of Nowhere, Vermont. His place was so isolated that the postman came only once a week and he went to the grocery store only once a month.

After six months of near total isolation, he hears a knock on the door. He opens the door and a big bearded Vermonter is standing there. He says, "Names Enoch ... your neighbor from four miles over the ridge. Having a party Saturday ... thought you'd like to come."

"Great," replies Sam, "after six months of living like this I'm ready to meet some local folks. Thanks for inviting me."

As Enoch is leaving, he stops. "Gotta warn you, though, there's gonna be some drinkin'."

"Not a problem. After 25 years in the newspaper business, I can drink with the best of them."

Again, as he starts to leave, Enoch stops. "More 'n likely gonna be some fightin', too."

Tough crowd, Sam thinks to himself. "Well, I get along with people. Don't worry, 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 is not a problem," Sam says, "I've been up here all alone for six long months. I'll definitely be there. By the way, what should I wear?"

Enoch stops in the doorway one last time and says, "Whatever you want. Just gonna be the two of us there."

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