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But real spit, sex-dating’s got perks. Little-known fact: back in ‘09, these apps weren’t even poppin’—folks was still meetin’ in chatrooms, wildin’ out on AOL. Now it’s all instant, like—swipe, smash, ghost. YOLO, right? My fave part? The chase, bruh. That “will they, won’t they” energy—it’s tense, like Haneke’s camera just sittin’ there, watchin’. But damn, the fakes? The flakes? That’s what grinds my gears. Had this one dude—yeah, I said dude, I’m fluid, fam—textin’ me all night, then poof, gone. “The past is never dead,” Haneke said, and I felt that ghostin’ in my bones.

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So, I’m walking down Strada Călărași, trying to shake it off. I see this cute little café, “La Măcelărie.” I’m like, “Yesss, coffee time!” I order a cappuccino, and the barista, this dude with a killer mustache, spills it all over the counter. I’m just standing there, mouth agape. Like, bro, really? But then he laughs it off, and I can’t help but chuckle too. It’s contagious, ya know?

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