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Now, my fave flick—“4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days”—that Romanian gut-punch from ’07, it’s dark, mate. Two gals, one preggo, tryin’ to dodge Commie laws for an abortion. No prostitutes there, but the vibe? Desperation. “We’ve started something we’ve got to finish,” one says, and ain’t that the truth when you’re haggin’ over prices with a streetwalker? Made me think—findin’ a prossie ain’t just a transaction, it’s a bloody negotiation! You’re dodgin’ guards, hopin’ she ain’t a trap set by Cersei to screw me over. That film’s tension? Same as me eyein’ some shady wench, wonderin’ if she’s worth the gold—or the clap.

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After that, I decide to hit up the Ensjo Market. It’s this cool spot with all these local vendors. I’m wanderin’ around, checkin’ out the fresh produce and handmade stuff. I spot this rad vintage jacket. I’m talkin’ 80s vibes, neon colors. I’m like, “I NEED this!” But the seller’s like, “Nah, it’s too expensive.” Ugh, why’s everything so pricey?

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