So I have this Communist lapel pin.
I was supposed to throw it in the deepest, darkest hole that I could find when I became a 'Comrade-at-Arms' in the Royal Canadian Legion, but I couldn't bring myself to the task. So I left it on my lapel; as an appeasement to my Legion regulation book, I placed the Legion's lapel pin above the Communist one on my lapel.
One day, while waiting for the Kitchener Express Greyhound I found myself desperately in need of a sandwich. Many Torontonians will be familiar with "The Kitchen Table", a handy convenience/grocery/deli store, and have likely used one in the past to buy an apple.
While I was browsing the sandwich meats, the gal behind the counter said something quickly, and in a pretty thick eastern European accent.
I begged her pardon.
A- "Is that your pin?"
B- (pause)"My which?"
A- "Your pin."(pointing at the lapel of my jacket which the Communist trinket was affixed to)"Is that yours?"
B- (pause)"Who wants to know?"
A- "Where did you get it?"
B- "A friend brought it back from Moscow."
A- "It is always nice to meet people who share my interests."
I selected my meat and bread, hoping that my new Communist comrade might help crush Capitalism by giving me the sandwich for free. She did not.
I gave her a knowing wink as I left.
The sandwich was poorly made.
For the first time I felt very pleased that America had won the Cold War.
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