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March 5, 2003
In Compton (Missouri, not California), when I was growing up, there was a drive-in theatre that showed R and X-Rated movies. Imagine that. Imagine the mad dash I'd make to the car any time there was the slightest possibility of going by the drive-in. Imagine me praying, fervently, for the car to break down or the stop light near the entrance to vapor lock. Imagine the contortions in the back seat as I tried to get the last possible look out the back windshield. Be kind, I was on the verge of the frenzied hormonal rush of the teen years.