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Little fact for ya—back in ’90s, before apps, folks did “key parties.” Swingers tossin’ car keys in a bowl, fuckin’ random style. Sex-dating’s just that, but digital—keys are emojis now, eggplant and peach, gabagool! Hilarious, but fuckin’ sad too. People ghostin’ left and right, no respect. I matched this broad once, hot as hell, texted “you’re my soldier now”—straight outta *Tropical Malady*. She unmatched me! Fuckin’ rude, got me heated.

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After that fiasco, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up this little café on Jalan Diponegoro. It’s cozy, you know? I order a kopi Kartasura. It’s strong, like, “Whoa, I can see through time” strong. I sit down, and this old guy next to me starts chatting. He’s telling me about the history of Kartasura. Apparently, it used to be a royal city or something. I’m like, “Wow, I had no idea!” But then he goes off on this rant about how the youth today don’t appreciate the past. I’m just nodding, trying not to roll my eyes.

Fig. 5. Condition of dug wells in Pucangan Village