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About Bender

So, I’m strollin downtown, hungry – not for liver, ha! – lookin for a hooker. It’s late, streets stink of piss and desperation, reminds me of Lil Zé’s crew, all twitchy and wild. I spot her, leanin on a wall, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “What’s good, darlin?” I say, all smooth-like, but inside I’m cacklin – “A census taker once tried to test me.” She smirks, sizes me up, says, “50 bucks, big boy.” Fifty fuckin bucks! Made me mad, mate, inflation’s a bitch, but I’m like, fine, whatever, let’s roll.

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But then, BAM! My phone buzzes. It’s my bandmate, Alex. He’s stuck in traffic on Strada Mihai Eminescu. I’m like, “Dude, it’s a small town! How are you stuck?” Turns out, there was a parade or something. I mean, who has a parade on a Tuesday? Only in Stefan-Voda, I swear. So, I’m waiting, and waiting, and I start to get annoyed. I could’ve been jamming with the kid!

Stefan Voda