As you may recall, the object of my intense desire, Cluj-Napoca City Hall, had been veiled in tantalizing construction lingerie for as long as I’d known her.  So eager was I to peek up her satin nightgown last December that it landed me in the backseat of a police car.

Such is the plight of those who find climbable no-go zones immensely attractive.  One day, when science proves that we were indeed born this way, we’ll be a protected minority free from all social stigma.  Or something.

Anyway, that bitch had the nerve to go full nude this summer in front of the entire city after months of ignoring my calls and loathing my unctuous gaze while basking in the white-hot glow of my lovelorn arrest write-up.  Sulk.

On a semi-serious note, does anyone know why the paint on the tower no longer matches the paint on the rest of the building?  Don’t get me wrong—they did excellent work and all but the carpet doesn’t exactly match the drapes if you know what I mean.