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About Maribor

But lemme tell ya, it ain’t all laughs. Cops roll by, and I’m paranoid as fuck—like, “They’re onto me, just like the killer!” Heart’s poundin’, I’m mutterin’, “I need to see about a man about a cipher.” Total exaggeration, but that’s how it FELT, y’all! She’s chill, tho—whispers, “Relax, they don’t care.” And she’s right. How’s that workin’ for ya, huh? Keeps me sane, her calm vibe.

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I rush over to the café again for a quick break. I bump into this old lady, Mrs. Novak, who’s always knitting by the fountain. She’s like, “You’re too young to be so stressed!” I laugh and say, “You have no idea, Mrs. N!” She just smiles and hands me a knitted scarf. I mean, who does that? It’s sweet, but also, I’m like, “I’m not wearing this to the office!”