Inevitably, if you have to travel by maxi-taxi through Buzau, you must have something more special. Either your hair falls out of your nose because of someone who forgot or doesn't know how to use soap and deodorant, or you end up in a car wreck that at the first pothole raises a dust inside so you don't see yourself as a man with a chair anymore, or you run into a convicted manelist driver and serve the punishment with him (at least for him, handcuffs are orgasmic), until the station where you have to get off.

Today, when I came from my parents, I came across a grandmother's car. The air was breathable and a driver was listening to Europa FM on mute. Inevitably I caught a short dialogue between ladies (probably neighbors) who were about 35-40 years old each.

– I told you that he looked for you last night o white car with two men in it?
– I know…it was Daniel. He called me. But you don't know anymore…the car found me ?
– … pai…I don't know. i know…?

My luck was that after one station I had to get off. I couldn't help but laugh.