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TIL I stopped guessing which stool was mine at my local cafe and started doing something a 7th grader would do
For 3 weeks straight I'd walk into the shop on 9th Ave and freeze, doing that awkward half-smile at whoever looked like they might be saving a seat, until the barista finally drew a tiny number 4 in the foam of my latte, and now I just claim the stool under the framed photo of a llama and nobody argues.
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