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From time to time, like any ordinary man, I am overcome by the urge for piping hot and sloppy roast beef sammiches. Like any ordinary man, I go to Arby's to fulfill those needs. Arby's is rather unremarkable in this fashion. This Arby's, however, is special. It seems to have a hooker infestation. From time to time, I'll find a middle aged women in various states of withdrawal, often with a bent Virginia slim and hot pink stretch pants, waiting for her own special meat ride in the drive-thru.

