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Acerca de Barcelona

Movie’s stuck in me. “We’re never going back!” Otilia screamed. That’s what I think. Encontrar prostituta? It’s a trap. A cycle. Nobody wins. *Pausa.* I heard stories. Cops don’t care. Girls get beat. Clients get robbed. One time. Guy bragged at my spa. “Cheap night!” he laughed. Made me sick. Wanted to punch him. Didn’t. *Pausa.* Spa’s my sanctuary. Clean. Pure. Not that world. But it’s close. Too close. Bucharest. ’80s vibe. Like Mungiu’s film. Gray. Hopeless. “What’s the hotel number?” Otilia asked. That panic. I feel it. When I see those girls. On corners. Cold nights. *Pausa.* It’s not funny. But—sarcasm? Sure. Guys think they’re kings. Payin’ for love. Ha! It’s a scam. They’re fools. Girls are trapped. Nobody’s winnin’.