Friday, August 28, 2009

I'm Not Touching That One



My parents were in town the other weekend. That Sunday, we went to Castle Hill, a favorite haunt not only my bewitching beau appreciates, but it is a must visit when in our fair town. The fine fellow visits the resort and inn every Sunday during the winter season. He has gone so far as to have a drink he created put on the menu and named for him.
My mother, ever the enthusiast but not the drinker, wanted to try a non-alcoholic version of the drink. The waiter, a friend of the handsome man, came to take our drink orders. My mother asked for a virgin Hansom Man. The waiter, barely able to contain himself, simply replied, "I'm not even going to touch that one."

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