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About Bucharest

Ran into this gal—name’s Candy, swear to god. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like it’s 1940s noir. I’m like, “Hey, you good?” She laughs—dry, sarcastic—says, “Good as a dollar gets ya.” Reminds me of that movie line, “What do you do?”—all mysterious. Little known fact, bud—back in the 1800s, they called ‘em “soiled doves.” Poetic, right? Screw that, it’s sad! These girls got stories—Candy’s got a kid, works nights. Breaks my damn heart.

So you want to book a sex worker?

The English Collective of Prostitutes (ECP) is a grassroots organisation of sex workers and supporters campaigning for the decriminalisation of prostitution, for sex workers’ rights and Missing: Topraisar.

Then, I decide to grab a coffee at that little café on Strada Libertății. You know the one? The one with the weird art on the walls? I order my usual – a cappuccino, extra foam. But the barista? She’s like, “We’re out of foam.” I’m like, “What do you mean out of foam?!” I mean, c’mon, it’s a cappuccino! So, I settle for a black coffee. Not the same, but whatever.

Romania scrambles fighter jets over airborne target crossing its border