Just when I was at my lowest, hating life and Keystone state, an amazing string of events unfolded before me at a Sheetz gas station in Bloomsburg, Pa. that changed my opinion of this town forever.
I’ve been on a business trip to Bloomsburg for the past couple weeks and I haven’t had the best time. I’ve been pretty down on the place — people can’t drive, I’ve seen a better restaurant selection in Central American villages and the job site has been difficult. To top it all off, I ended up having to stay a couple extra days to tie up some loose ends. Suffice it to say, I was hating this place pretty bad.
Then, as if God knew how miserable I was, he sent a guy who looked like the Iron Sheik and a one-legged redneck on duct-tape covered crutches to cheer me up.
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