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I brought my white jumpsuit to the One Hour Cleaners on Ashland Avenue. When I returned later that day to pick it up, I noticed a stain on the leg that had not been there before.

"How can you call this clean?" I complained.

The clerk responded flatly, "What do you want in an hour?"

--Mary Edsey

A friendly woman gets on the elevator of a Streeterville high rise and smiles at a tall, fashionably dressed young man. The guy is sporting an elaborate blond hairdo with a sweep of curled, frosted bangs.

"I like your hair," the woman exclaims. "It's pretty."

The young man begins to gush. "Oh, thank you! I knew I had to do something when my boss told me I looked like a used car salesman. Not even a new car salesman." He rolls his eyes and grimaces in mock horror.

"Well now it's pretty," she repeats with conviction as the elevator doors open and everyone begins to file out. "You look like a gigolo, but it's pretty."

--Julie Benesh


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