Sick of the city, Sam quits his job and moves to Minnesota, as far from humanity as possible. He sees the postman once a week and gets groceries once a month. After six months of isolation, someone knocks on his door. A huge bearded man is standing on his porch.

 

“Name’s Lars,” the man says, “from down the road. Having a party Saturday. Wanna come?”

 

“Definitely,” says Sam. “After six months out here, I’m ready to meet some people.”

 

“Gotta warn you,” says Lars, “there’s gonna be some drinkin’.”

 

“No problem: I can drink with the best of them,” says Sam.

 

“More’n likely gonna be some fightin’ too.”

 

“Well, I like people,” Sam says. “I’ll be there.”

 

Lars starts to walk away, but then turns back. “I seen some wild sex at these parties, too.”

 

“Not a problem,” says Sam. “I’ve been alone for six months! Just one question, though: What should I wear?”

 

Lars shrugs. “Whatever you want. It’s just gonna be the two of us.”

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