A man goes to Argentina

A man goes to Argentina He rode on the back of a pickup truck to a little town a few miles north of Tandil, where the arid plains roughened into coarse, rocky outcrops at the foothills of the Tandilia Hills. There’s not much to see other than a bustling little main street, where you can buy groceries and candy and tobacco. You can even catch a soccer game at a pleasant pub. What surprises the man, however, is just how many dentist’s offices he can see, covered in big neon signs advertising veneers at discount prices. One, two, three - three dentists in one little town! His curiosity gets the better of him. The man enters the first dentist’s office and asks the dentist about his story. The dentist explains that his father was German but loved the Argentine sun. The man enters the second dentist’s office and asks the dentist about his story. The dentist explains that his father was German but loved the Argentine air. The man enters the third dentist’s office and asks the dentist about his story. The third dentist explains that his father was German but loved the Argentine food. This was all very well and good but it didn’t explain much at all. Shrugging it off, the man goes to the pub, and orders a beer. The barman asks the man if he’s enjoying his visit. The man says yes, but he’s confused as to why there’s so many German dentists. “Just be grateful they don’t do what their parents did,” the barman says. “Why?” asks the man. “Who were their parents?” “Butchers,” says the barman.