A Winner Is You Magnet

While on a walking holiday of western Oregon, I happened upon the shack of a native. Besieged by the inclement weather, I pounded on their door, seeking shelter. A wizened, though not necessarily wise, old man opened it and hurried me in. Seeing my bedraggled state, he offered me a share of the soup he was warming by a paraffin heater. I readily agreed and upon being served a bowl of the thick red liquid, I hungrily slurped down spoonful after spoonful. It was only as I finished that I noticed the old man hadn't served any for himself and simply watched me with a bemusement usually reserved for children seeing their first tapir at a zoo. My face betrayed my sudden discomfort and with an almost eerie level of calm, he said to me...