Sandy and Joan were waiting in line at the tuck shop on the beach. They were hankering for the tender and tasty fries for which the place was famous. Hand cut right on the spot using potatoes fresh off the farm. The people ahead were taking their time scanning the menu and making up their mind. “Don’t you have shoestring fries?” they asked. “Nope,” said the guy behind the counter. “Okay, just cokes, lots of ice,” said the customers and then left with their drinks. The server watched them leave, then turned to Sandy and Joan. “Yanks,” he said, disgustedly.
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