One evening some years ago I was sitting alone in my basic pub, reading a book. I ended up accompanied by five random guys I didn't know. Turned out all of them were named Tomáš. Say you're drinking beer and you're joined by not-completely-sober blokes who all claim to have the same name, you're, quite rightfully so, suspicious that they might be pulling your leg. But in the end, they all dug out their ID cards. It ended up being a superbly fun evening and probably the only evening out drinking when I did not forget anyone's name.
Kind of reminded me of a great movie by Aki Kaurismäki called “Calamari Union”... Storyline by IMDB:
''Fourteen desperate men named Frank, band together to escape from a repressive section of Helsinki. An English-speaking non-Frank named Pekka joins the barroom conspirators, whose avoidance of last names, and any affect, help them outsmart overwhelming forces as they sneak through dark subway tunnels and alleys, hoping against despair to reach magical seaside Eira. The Calamari Unionists take advantage of unending night to venture their intrepid journey.''
