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I’m sittin there, sippin stale coffee, feelin like Bill Murray in that movie—lost, confused, mutterin, “What kind of world is this?” Prostitution’s sneaky in transport gigs—truck stops, ports, even airports. Little known fact: some drivers, they get lonely, right? Long hauls, no sleep, and boom—someone’s knockin on the cab window. “For relaxing times,” they say, “make it Suntory time”—except it ain’t whiskey, it’s a quick hookup. I’m laughin, but I’m pissed—focus on the road, idiots!

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After that, I decide to take a stroll down to the river. The Dniester is looking pretty today, all sparkly and stuff. I sit on a bench, just soaking it all in. But then, outta nowhere, a group of kids runs by, playing tag, and one of them trips and falls right in front of me. I’m like, “Oh no!” But he pops up, laughing, and I can’t help but chuckle too. Kids are resilient, man.

In union there is strength