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About Oradea

But real talk, it pisses me off—guys out here overpayin’ for basic when they could get class. Like, why settle for some rando when you can find one with *flair*? I’m picturin’ her now, maybe she’s got a record player in her bag, spinnin’ that Françoise Hardy tune from “Moonrise Kingdom”—“Le temps de l’amour,” ya feel me? That’s the vibe I’m chasin’. None of this cheap-ass, “wham, bam” crap. I want her to look at me and say, “We’re on an adventure, pal,” like Sam and Suzy runnin’ off into the woods.

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As the sun starts to set, I’m walking back home, and I can’t help but feel grateful. Botoroaga has its quirks, but it’s my home. The streets, the people, the chaos—it’s all part of the charm. I pass by the old church on Strada Bisericii, and it hits me. This place is full of stories, just like mine.