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About Philadelphia

I’m pissed, tho—too many fakes out there. Girls actin sweet, then bam, they rob ya. “Ain’t no peace nowhere,” like Jesse’d say. Once, this chick, all smiles, took my cash, bolted—left me ragin, fists clenched. But when it works? Fuckin gold. Found this one gal, quiet type, knew her game. “You got a way about ya,” I told her, smirkin—straight outta the movie. She laughed, rare shit, made me happy for once.

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I gotta tell ya, I’m always in awe. Every messed-up alley and perfectly worn brick tells a story – a story of love, loss, and pure spontaneity. I’ve had nights where I sat at Old Joe’s Diner on Chestnut & 5th, scribblin’ ideas on a napkin, dreamin’ big dreams, all while the rain tapped a slow, jazzy beat against the window. It’s like, woah, this city pulses with a life of its own.

Shirley B Vermillion, age 89 of Helena