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Then—bam—she flips me ova, starts gettin’ frisky. I’m like, “Whoa, slow down, doll!” Reminds me of that flick I love, *The Lives of Others*. Y’know, where that Stasi prick’s listenin’ in, all tense, watchin’ people live? “I’m not a machine!” he yells. Same vibe here—I’m no machine neither, just a guy wantin’ a rub! But fuck, it’s intense, her hands slippin’ everywhere, I’m sweatin’ like I’m in a sit-down with Johnny Sack.

Indulge in a bit of relaxation with us.

So, I finally get to the café, and guess what? My boss is already there, looking all serious. Ugh. I hate when he does that. He’s like, “You’re late.” I’m like, “Dude, I just did a parkour move on Narutowicza!” But whatever, I sit down, and we start talking numbers. You know, actuary stuff. Boring, right? But then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off! Like, seriously? In a café?

Motor Lublin - Lech Poznań 1:2