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Little known fact—back in Soviet days, hookers were called “night butterflies.” Kinda poetic, huh? Not these gals, tho—straight-up sharks. One dude told me some pimp once threw a guy outta window for hagglin too much. Brutal! I’m careful, tho—“What you kill, you must bury,” movie says. I ain’t buryin no regrets, fam! So I’m chattin Natasha up, she’s laughin at my shitty Russian, and I’m thinkin, maybe this ain’t so bad. 3000 rubles later, I’m feelin like a king—exaggeratin? Maybe, but who cares!

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After that, I strolled down to the park by the river. The Dniester River, to be exact. It’s beautiful, man. I sat on a bench, strumming my guitar, just vibing. Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs up to me. He’s like, “Play ‘Despacito’!” I’m like, “Dude, I’m not a jukebox!” But I played it anyway. The kid starts dancing, and suddenly, I’m the coolest dude in Stefan-Voda. Crazy how fast that can change, right?

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