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I pull up near the old gas station—shady spot, y’all. This gal’s standin’ there, red heels, smokin’ a cig. I’m thinkin’, “She’s bold, I’m bold—match made!” I roll down my window, all cool, and she’s like, “Hey, tractor lady, you lost?” I’m dyin’ laughin’—lost? Me? Never! I say, “Naw, just curious, girl!” She smirks, tosses her hair, and I’m like, wow, she’s got *Timbuktu* vibes—untamed, fierce, y’know? “The desert hides its secrets,” like the movie says.

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First off, I hit the streets of Bodegraven, right? I’m cruising down the Hoofdstraat, and it’s like, 8 AM. The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m feeling good. But then, BAM! I step in a puddle. Not just any puddle, but the biggest, muddiest one ever. My shoes? Ruined. Thanks, Bodegraven weather.

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