Every poor bastard that goes through the check out line that you happen to be bagging at in Piggly Wiggly Asheville knows you are a real person. Especially when they get home, cussing your name because once again you put the 2 liter of Coke on top of the loaf of bread.
Every drunk and/or high college kid in Asheville knows you are real, and cuss you when they go to Circle K on a late night munchies or alcohol run only to find you have already wiped out all the Chackin Torpedos on the hot roller grill and wiped out all the grape Four Loko in the cooler.
BUT, the smoking gun that Juice actually does indeed exist is I have saved the actual receipt from the night we met. I have uploaded it, and as you can see the date and what Juice ordered (Chackin Fangers), the address, and the time all should be proof. No, I didn't save my receipt for nostalgic reasons, I was on a business trip and expense account that shit.
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