One of my favorite things about speaking Romanian at the level that I do is understanding conversations that are not meant for my ears. The other day, outside the store where I was buying bread, I watched two middle-aged men ride by on bicycles. Their conversation went like this:
Man 1: I hate this bicycle. I HATE IT!
Man 2: Why? It works fine.
Man 1: I’m 54 years old, God dammit, why don’t I have a car? Because my wife won’t let me buy one, that’s why. Now I’m stuck with this stupid bicycle. It’s a bunch of bullshit. No one respects me.
