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About Esch-sur-Alzette

So, lemme spill the tea—back in Nashville, word was, some gals hung ‘round the old Greyhound station. Not sayin’ I ever went lookin’, mind ya! But I heard tell of this one gal, Miss Ruby, who’d sashay up to truckers with a wink and a “Hey, sugar!”—swear she could charm the horns off a billy goat! Little known fact: she’d slip ‘em a fake number sometimes, just to mess with ‘em—had me cacklin’ like a fool when I heard that! Smart cookie, that Ruby.

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Next up, I get this group of tourists. They’re lost, of course. They’re like, “Where’s the Grand-Ducal Palace?” I’m like, “Dude, it’s a 15-minute walk from here!” But they insist on takin’ the elevator. So, I’m like, “Fine, let’s go.” I hit the button for the ground floor, and they start takin’ selfies. I mean, c’mon! We’re in an elevator, not a photo booth!

Missing Links in Textbook History: Indigenous Peoples