While having a morning coffee at the Bistro, a friendly man struck up a random conversation. I took another bite of my scone and gave him complete attention.
“Do you like W.C. Fields?” he asked.
“Why yes, born in the same city.”
“I would rather be living in Philadelphia?” he quoted.
“Let me test your skill,” I said. “What’s the name of the town where they shot The Bank Dick?”
“Lompoc.”
“You’re good,” I said.
He smiled proudly, “My mother named me after the W.C. character.”
“Egbert?”
“Yes.”
“What a coincidence,” I said. “My name is Og Oggilby.”
“Do you like W.C. Fields?” he asked.
“Why yes, born in the same city.”
“I would rather be living in Philadelphia?” he quoted.
“Let me test your skill,” I said. “What’s the name of the town where they shot The Bank Dick?”
“Lompoc.”
“You’re good,” I said.
He smiled proudly, “My mother named me after the W.C. character.”
“Egbert?”
“Yes.”
“What a coincidence,” I said. “My name is Og Oggilby.”
