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makes you a censorious triggered lib trampling on the Constitution

Other clients were deranged and dangerous. One day a Charles Manson clone slithered up to the counter with a canvas bundle; I recoiled. When he unveiled his goods, I saw a handful of glistening knives emblazoned with swastikas. “Take these?” he hissed. I turned him away. A few minutes later, I told…

For the next couple of minutes, she abrogated her family history.

My first day on the job was as I expected: business was good. A post-crash malaise had fomented the rural poor’s already healthy distrust of the banking system, and, anyway, many clients were among the longstanding unbanked