In my young adult life; I was a gambler. One good friend of mine was Junior; in San Diego; a black man. Just the most loveable guy. We pooled our change; at the greyhound races in Tijuana. To buy us a bottle of tequila to share. With a lime to squeeze! Yummy! Junior was a great guy. Nothing ever upset him. We'd drink tequila up in the grandstand and suck the lime! Playing the greyhounds. Race never came between us. How could it? I asked once: What's your actual name, Junior? He answered me, "Junior." You had to love the man.
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