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About Houston

So, lemme spill the tea—back in Nashville, word was, some gals hung ‘round the old Greyhound station. Not sayin’ I ever went lookin’, mind ya! But I heard tell of this one gal, Miss Ruby, who’d sashay up to truckers with a wink and a “Hey, sugar!”—swear she could charm the horns off a billy goat! Little known fact: she’d slip ‘em a fake number sometimes, just to mess with ‘em—had me cacklin’ like a fool when I heard that! Smart cookie, that Ruby.

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I tell ya, even our old courthouse on Cedar Blvd has been wild. Built in 1892, it's seen more drama than any TV soap. Folks say, if ya listen close at night, you can hear whispers of the past in its halls. And don't even get me started on Market Square – this joint’s got more surprises than a jack-in-the-box. Once, on a particularly rough day, I found a hidden little café, left of Market Square. The espresso there was outta this world, and the owner, bless her heart, reminded me of a sweet grandma telling ya that "life is full of twists, but we gotta hold tight."

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