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About Celje

Sometimes I’m pluggin calls, thinkin—sex-dating’s like *Certified Copy*. “What’s real, what’s fake?” Nobody knows till ya meet. Once dated this gal—swore she was a chef, cooked me Spam on a hot plate. Spam! I’m dyin laughin now, but back then? Fumin! Still, kinda cute how she tried. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but that’s my quirk—every story’s gotta be extra!

Then, my phone buzzes. It’s my boss. “We need to talk,” he says. Oh boy, here we go. I’m thinking, “What did I do now?” Turns out, he wants me to lead a new project. I’m like, “Sweet! But also, why me?” I mean, I’m just a supervisor, not a miracle worker.