"Can you stop looking at my friend like you want to eat her crotch with your face?" the firebrand on the other side of the Albany-Troy bus demanded of a panhandler sitting in the seat just ahead of me. (this was about five minutes after a stringy-haired blonde had rebuked the same friend, a drugged-out looking girl, for falling asleep on the bus)
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Best of luck on the move!
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