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On the morning of her 28th birthday, Jaime Atwell and her maid of honor, Shannon Hughes, dipped out of the line outside Filene’s Basement in Washington D.C., which curled around two Washington D.C. city blocks, and staggered groggy-eyed to a nearby Starbucks.
They had not eaten in hours. They had arrived at the Savoy Hotel on Wisconsin Avenue at 2:30 that morning, after a flat tire extended their road trip to eight hours, and awoke before dawn to get in line.
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