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My old Ireland | Started by: Fluke_Fox on Aug 28, '11 16:57 |
After a few weeks of travel over the Atlantic Ocean in an old rusty freighter, Fluke sets foot on land. Chicago. A city, in which a promise was given, an opportunity of a lifetime, for wealth and good living.
After his friend TomCollins, introduced him to a few of his business associates, he decides to go for a stroll to the closest coffee shop for a cigarette and an drink. The waiter sets down a glass of water and a cup of coffee, with two sugar lumps and a cookie sitting on the dish. Beautiful American ladies walk past him in the street. He nods his head and salutes them with a small tilt of his cap and a wink. He then takes out a hip flask from his tweed suit and pours some fine 21 year old Bushmills single malt whiskey into his coffee.
He wakes up from his day-dream, realising he is now in Chicago. |
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T-Man listening Fluke_fox and thinking what a good story. I came from Ireland too so I know how it feels to leave your Country and come to Chicago. T-Man find Fluke_fox and says |
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Reply by: T-Man at Aug 28, '11 19:29 | |
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I'm glad to hear that your settling in nicely. I know that we've covered a few things privately and you've picked up on many aspects of our life by yourself. As always you know if there is anything I can do to help you out I will. Also to anyone who is new to these shores and hears this I extend that offer to them as well. |
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Reply by: TomCollins at Aug 28, '11 22:22 | |
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