Saturday, 9:16 AM: A craving for orange juice resulted in an unplanned stop at a Sauk City gas station, Sauk City being a town rural enough to render half its name a lie.
I paid for my beverage and headed out to the parking lot where a man was engaged in easy conversation with a fellow local. He leaned his dusty frame over the hood of his Chevy, his face framed with a trucker hat and thick mustache. His squinting eyes folded over me, taking in my black peacoat, fingerless gloves, and white-rimmed oversized sunglasses.
He paused, mumbled something between a grunt and a laugh, and said, "How far are we from Hollywood, anyway?"
I smiled and said, "Only a few blocks west, head down this road a bit and you can't miss it."
He laughed and adjusted his cap.
Love that guy.
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