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But here’s the kicker—some o’ these girls, they’re slyer than me after three cups! I drink and I know things, sure, but they *know* things too—like how to nick your purse while you’re busy gawkin. Pissed me off once, lost half me coin to a wench with a grin like a cat. “A little courage always helps,” she says, quotin’ the movie in me head, and I’m like, “You cheeky sod!”

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Sometimes, I feel the pulse of Hartselle deep in my bones. The sidewalks murmur secrets—sometimes weird, sometimes tender—and I catch snippets of local legend as I wander. I swear sometimes the pavement tells ya, “Go on, be freakin’ extra!” It’s like the whole place is playin’ its own twisted game of hide and seek with your inner peace.

Hartselle man charged with trafficking fentanyl