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In the city of New York, in the year of 1907, there arrived a young Greek immigrant. He and his recent bride found lodgings on Hester Street and set up modest housekeeping.
Being an ambitious fellow with some hard earned savings, he opened a restaurant.
In that same year there arrived a young Chinese fellow who opened a hand-laundry. As fate would have it, the laundry was immediately adjacent to the Greek's dining establishment.
This delighted the Greek. No longer would he have to trundle his linens the long ten blocks to have them laundred.
The Chinese chap was also pleased. He wouldn't have to eat a cold lunch. The restaurant was quite handy.
The years passed and both of the men enjoyed a modest prosperity. Every day at noon the Chinese would seat himself at the lunch counter and when asked for his order would reply, "One orda flyed lice, prease."
Finally, on one fine spring day, the Greek didn't ask what his order would be. Instead, he started in on a mild tirade, saying, "We both been in this country for about ten years. Me, I learn some pretty good English. And why not. This is America but you ... you ain't even tryin'." For Christ sake, can't you even say fried rice? Tell ya what; today you can have anything ya want and it's on the house! I just don't wanna hear that stupid 'flyed lice' again. Now, what'll ya have?"
The Chinese looked at the Greek for a long moment and then in his most dignified manner he replied, "I shall have one order of FRIED RICE ... you Gleek Plick

Bob