Michael Anderson

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Once on vacation, I accidentally drove down a pedestrian-only street in Italy. Old Italian ladies started hitting the car with their handbags as Italian men slapped the windshield in anger and disappointment. I kept cry-yelling at them, “OK BUT WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO NOW? I HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO KEEP GOING.”
Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes
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