I watched Rihanna’s Super Bowl halftime show at a Buffalo Wild Wings in Turlock, California, a small city in the Central Valley that sits nestled against state Route 99. I was road-tripping back to LA after a weekend away, and witnessing Rihanna’s first live performance in five years seemed like a good way to break up the drive.
I wasn’t expecting much. I like Rihanna, but I’m a casual fan. I don’t seek out her music; I have no opinions about when she should release her next album.
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