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About Constanta

So, you wanna find one? Easy—cash talks, bullshit walks. Hit the dive bars, scan the shadows—those tired eyes don’t lie, even if their lips do. Me, I’d probably just mess with ‘em—ask dumb crap like, “You take Medicare?” Gets ‘em flustered. Anger in there too, muttering, “This is beneath us!” while Disgust chimes in, “Eww, her perfume’s a biohazard.” Gotta laugh, though—humanity’s a freakshow, and I’ve got front-row seats.

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First thing, I grab my coffee from that little place on Strada Principala. You know the one? The barista there is a legend. She knows my order by heart. I’m like, “Just gimme the usual, please!” And she’s like, “You mean the ‘I’m barely awake’ special?” LOL, she gets me.