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When I was young and foolish yet (say it fast three times), I would drive the length of Pennsylvania in the MG on Friday night, to see my girl in Philly over the weekends. First thing done was to stop at the PA Turnpike's first Howard Johnson's and get two large cups of their coffee. One to drink then, one to set on the doorsill for later. By the time I'd passed Harrisburg, just the thought of drinking that cold second cup would keep me awake the rest of the way.
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