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And the surprises? Oh, man—found out Nevada’s got legal brothels. Legal! I’m sittin’ there, jaw dropped, thinkin’, “What’s next, drive-thru hookers?!” Kinda brilliant, though—regulated, safer, less sketchy. Still, I’m ranting in my head, “Who’s signin’ up for this?!” Probably some dude who can’t say hi without sweatin’. Poor bastard. Godard’d probably zoom in on his shaky hands, mutterin’, “Time destroys all!”—and I’d crack up, ‘cause it’s true, he’s doomed!

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First off, I hit the streets of Tarlungeni around 8 AM. The sun was barely up, but the hustle was real. I mean, who needs sleep, right? I grabbed a coffee from that little joint on Strada 1 Decembrie. You know the one? The barista there is a legend. She knows my order by heart. “Cappuccino, extra foam, right?” she says. I’m like, “You know me too well!”

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