A certain young man climbed on board of the overnight ‘sleeper’ train alone. He did not intend to fall asleep and he hoped for an interesting or amusing companion with whom to while away the hours in conversation. Suddenly walking up the carriage he spotted the most beautiful, shapely young blonde he had ever seen. Please, please! He thought.
Sure enough, she took the seat beside him.
Giving her a few minutes to settle in, he finally opened a conversation.
‘Excuse me, miss, is this a business or pleasure trip?’
‘Well, both.’ She spoke gaily and with easy fluency.
‘I’m going to a Nymphomaniacs Convention.’
He gagged, but finally recovered enough to speak again.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?’
‘Oh, I don’t mind. I’m a lecturer. I’m delivering a lecture on ‘Common myths of sexual mores and practices.”
‘Very interesting,’ he managed to splutter.
‘It is really, you know. For example there is a commonly held myth that the best endowed men are Afro-Americans. They’re not. It is the American Indian who is.’
‘Yes?’
‘And French men are said to make the best lovers. Not true, either. It is the Greeks.’
‘Really?’
‘But excuse me, how rude I am! I neglected to ask you your name.’
He took a deep breath.
‘Oh, me? My name?’ he answered.
I’m pleased to meet you.
My name is Tonto Papadoupalis!’