If you’ve ever watched a derby girl close-up doing her thing, you’ll fall instantly in love.
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If you’ve ever watched a derby girl close-up doing her thing, you’ll fall instantly in love.
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It was released fifty years ago, but Jack Kerouac had been paying his dues for a long time before that.
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It was back in ’96 and I was nursing a beer on a slow, dark Wednesday night in the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar when she walked in and saddled up beside me.
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She was leaning against the steel railing at the top of the overpass. I didn’t know she was a she until I was past, of course, but in that split second of recognition I hit the binders and pulled off onto the shoulder.
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She worked in a truck stop near Norco. The truckers would come in and tell her jokes and she’d pass them on with a hearty laugh and a huge smile. They ordered lunch or dinner or coffee and pie. Thirty-five cents for coffee and pie. A good tip was ten or fifteen cents then.
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