I’m having dinner this evening with my old friend Bill Buxton. Bill is the only person with whom I ever rode an elephant. He also told me the other day that I am the only person with whom he ever rode an elephant.

Since then my relationship to individuals of other species has evolved, to the point where I would never again ride an elephant — since, in retrospect, it is clearly not an experience that the elephant enjoys.

It is therefore quite likely that Bill and I will remain true to each other — that we will each remain the only person with whom the other has ever ridden an elephant.

Which, I believe, makes us both monopachydermous.

How many people can say that about each other?

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