deandra

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Deandra buys a bottle of wine

“Listen, I am buying this bottle of wine. You know, you could sell it to me, or I could sell your organs on the black market! So far tonight, your little power trip has cost me twenty-five minutes that I could have spent eating a delicious chicken fried prime rib dinner. So while I hold your fragile little life in my stainless steel finger tips, I ask you cashier: Do you need my ID? Do you?