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About Dublin

So, I sidle up, all nervous-like—me, Dolly, nervous! Can ya believe it? I’m sweatin’ more’n a sinner in church, thinkin’, “What if she laughs at my rhinestone boots?” I ask her, “Sugar, how’d ya end up here?” She smirks, says somethin’ bout payin’ bills, dodgin’ creeps, and outsmartin’ the law. Did y’all know some gals back in the 1800s used to hide cash in their corsets? Little secret pockets—crafty as all get-out! She’s got that same grit, I reckon, only now it’s 2025 and she’s probly got Venmo hidin’ in her phone.

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But then, the night takes a turn. Some guy spills his drink all over me. I’m soaked! I’m ready to blow up, but then I see the guy’s face. He’s so sorry, and he buys me a drink to make up for it. I can’t stay mad. We end up chatting, and he’s actually pretty cool. Turns out, he’s from the next town over. We bond over our love for Donnybrook and its quirks.

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