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And it would have a fucking ramp, because honest to god, how did anyone with a cane or wheelchair live in this city without going absolutely apeshit on all the establishments that didn’t give them access?
“She makes you feel like anything is possible, doesn’t she?” “She certainly does.”
“Tickets are things. You’re our person.”
She was a sucker for a deviled egg.
Nerves were fine. She welcomed those butterflies. They were a symptom of giving a shit.

