Lawrence R Zink
Zink@pdq.net
-----Original Message-----
Subject: Shipwrecked
>
>> An ambitious yuppie finally decided to take a vacation. He booked
>> himself on
>> a Caribbean cruise and proceeded to have the time of his life -- at
>> least
>> for a while.
>> A hurricane came unexpectedly. The ship went down and was lost
>> instantly.
>> The man found himself swept up on the shore of an island with no other
>> people, no supplies, nothing. Only bananas and coconuts.
>> Used to four-star hotels, this guy had no idea what to do. So for the
>> next
>> four months he ate bananas, drank coconut juice, longed for his old
>> life,
>> and fixed his gaze on the sea, hoping to spot a rescue ship.
>> One day, as he was lying on the beach, he spotted movement out of the
>> corner
>> of his eye. It was a rowboat, and in it was the most gorgeous woman
>> he
>> had
>> ever seen.
>> She rowed up to him.
>> In disbelief, he asked her: "Where did you come from? How did you get
>> here?"
>> "I rowed from the other side of the island," she said. "I landed here
>> when
>> my cruise ship sank."
>> "Amazing," he said, "I didn't know anyone else had survived. How many
>> of
>> you are there? You were really lucky to have a rowboat wash up with
>> you."
>> "It's only me, she said, "and the rowboat didn't wash up; nothing
>> did."
>> He was confused, "Then how did you get the rowboat?"
>> "Oh, simple," replied the woman. "I made it out of raw material that
>> I
>> found on the island. The oars were whittled from gum-tree branches, I
>> wove
>> the bottom from palm branches, and the sides and stern came from a
>> eucalyptus tree."
>> "But, but, that's impossible," stuttered the man. "You had no tools
>> or
>> hardware -- how did you manage?"
>> "Oh, that was no problem," the woman said. "On the south side of the
>> island, there is a very unusual strata of exposed alluvial rock. I
>> found
>> that if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into
>> forgeable ductile iron. I used that for tools, and used the tools to
>> make
>> the hardware. But enough of that. Where do you live?"
>> Sheepishly, the man confessed that he had been sleeping on the beach
>> the
>>
>> whole time.
>> "Well, let's row over to my place then," she said.
>> After a few minutes of rowing, she docked the boat at a small wharf.
>> As
>> the
>> man looked onto shore, he nearly fell out of the boat. Before him was
>> a
>>
>> stone walk leading to an exquisite bungalow painted in blue and white.
>> While the woman tied up the rowboat with an expertly woven hemp rope,
>> the
>> man could only stare ahead, dumbstruck.
>> As they walked into the house, she said casually, "It's not much, but
>> I
>> call
>> it home. Sit down, please; would you like to have a drink?"
>> "No, no, thank you," he said, still dazed. "I can't take any more
>> coconut
>> juice."
>> "It's not coconut juice," the woman replied. "I have a still. How
>> about
>> a
>> pina colada?"
>> Trying to hide his continued amazement, the man accepted, and they sat
>> down
>> on her couch to talk.
>> After they had exchanged their stories, the woman announced, "I'm
>> going
>> to
>> slip into something more comfortable. Would you like to take a shower
>> and
>> shave? There is a razor upstairs in the cabinet in the bathroom."
>> No longer questioning anything, the man went into the bathroom. There
>> in
>> the
>> cabinet was a razor made from a bone handle. Two shells honed to a
>> hollow-ground edge were fastened to its tip, inside a swivel
>> mechanism.
>> "This woman is amazing," he mused. "What next?"
>> When he returned, the woman greeted him wearing nothing but vines --
>> strategically positioned -- and smelling faintly of gardenias. She
>> beckoned
>> for him to sit down next to her.
>> "Tell me," she began suggestively, slithering closer to him, "We've
>> been
>> out
>> here for a very long time. You've been lonely. There's something I'm
>> sure
>> you really feel like doing right now, something you've been longing
>> for
>> all
>> these months? You know..."
>> She stared into his eyes.
>> He couldn't believe what he was hearing: "You mean..." he replied, "I
>> can
>> check my e-mail from here?"
>>
>> --
>> Michael Sneed
>> 573.442.3326
>> michael@a-d-g.com
>> Azimuth Design Group, llc.
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