I'm Really Really Sorry

Track of the day.

A female approached me at the bar.

"Hello," I said. "How are you these days?"
I knew her from somewhere but I couldn't remember whether it was from Bogsville or from somewhere else.
"I'm really sorry," she said.
"It's Milt," I told her. I thought it was the name that was a problem.
"I know that," she said, "I recognized you the minute I came in. You look just the same. I'm really, really sorry."
"Are you still doing the same job?" I asked, not really sure what she had been doing when I last came into contact with her.
"Oh yes, but I'm better at it now. I've been doing it for so long now. That's why I'm so very, very sorry."
By now I was totally confused.
"I'd better explain," she said. "I came in with Sally. You remember Sally don't you?"
"Oh yes," I lied, "I remember Sally. Who could ever forget Sally?"
"Well I came back to Bogsville for Sally's 45th birthday party. She came to mine about a month ago. That's why I'm so really, really sorry."
"Don't worry about it," I said. "There's no need to be sorry. Anyway I'm glad to see you're both still in the prime of life and very attractive, if you don't mind me saying so." I gave her one of my most lecherous smiles.

"It's not that Milt. You see when we knew you, you were a lot older than us. We're both 45 now, so you must be ... I'm just so terribly, terribly sorry."

Oh well - dum dum, a-diddly dum