Today as I was hightailing it across the fine state of Iowa*, I found myself at a truck stop in Floyd, IA. As I stood there at the pump, contemplating the assortment of pickled things and fried chicken giblets available inside, I glanced down to see a gleaming penny, heads up, in a slush puddle nearby.
With absolutely no hesitation, I plucked Lincoln out of that puddle and put him in my pocket.
Two plus hours later, after unloading my car at my storage unit, I found myself using the (questionable) bathroom at the self-store. And would you believe that as I adjusted my jeans, and the toilet flushed, out fell my lucky penny directly into the swirling waters? Because that's exactly what fucking happened.
If that isn't a sign, I don't know what is.
*Iowa, not that nice. Always windy AF. Worst gas mileage ever. But they have cheap gas and will sell me booze at the gas station, so we'll agree to disagree.
*Iowa, not that nice. Always windy AF. Worst gas mileage ever. But they have cheap gas and will sell me booze at the gas station, so we'll agree to disagree.
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