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Best part? The thrill. Worst? The fakes. Catfish city – ugh. Had a date once. She said “model.” Showed up – 50 pounds heavier. I’m thinkin’ – “You’re not foolin’ me!” Didn’t say it. Polite – sometimes. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But it’s chaos – sex-dating. Like *Boyhood*. “It’s always right now.” Livin’ moment to moment. Swipe. Chat. Bang – or bust. You try it? Tell me – pal! What’s YOUR story?

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Finally, the bus rolls up, and it’s packed. I squeeze in, and it smells like a mix of chips and wet dog. Lovely. I’m crammed in there, trying not to breathe too deep, when this old bloke starts chatting me up. He’s going on about the history of Carmarthen Castle. I’m like, “Mate, I’m just trying to survive this bus ride.” But he’s relentless. Apparently, Carmarthen’s got some serious history. Romans, Normans, you name it. I’m half-listening, half-dreaming of a pint at The Old Market Tavern.

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