Mr. mayor absolves himself of all guilt and responsibility, as if... dunno, back when it (sorta) worked, this democracy didn't use to work through the responsibility first and foremost in front of the folks who took the damn vote. I didn't, but what about all those other losers, Mr. Nicușor? Why are you not answering to them for your sheer incompetence?

The moral of this story being that not only we can't have nice things, but we will continue to be left without such niceties for the foreseeable future. Such are the times of decay, and we'll go through them until we either come to some light, or otherwise until we're left without our grand selves altogether.