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It's not a feeling I much enjoy. Toney and I decided to take the golf cart to the little campground snack bar, and get some sausage biscuits, or whatever, for breakfast. I was a zombie and just drove as if on auto-pilot. There were a few people there eating in the outdoor seating area, but nobody was at the window ordering. We walked up, told the store woman what we wanted, and she handed me a receipt that was roughly a foot long, told me we were number 59 and that we could pick up our order at store the next window. And when our food was ready, the same woman slid open the window and started hollering NUMBER 59? 59? We were still the only people there, and she'd just taken our order three minutes before. Crazy. As we ate, the kids began throwing tater tots to the squirrels, and before we knew it a whole gang of them were surrounding us.
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