I remember growing up in Bangkok when I was 18. I had just stepped out of a club, and a pretty girl (or so I thought at that time) the same age shyly held out her (oh boy did I have no clue at that time) hand to me and asked me if I wanted to walk around with her, for only 500 bahts. Plastic Love was playing on the radio where we stopped to have ramen together. She never gave me her name, but told me a day to always meet her to hold hands and walk or picnic. I finally got her name a few months later - Achara. We became close friends, but my parents took a job to Korea when we were 21, so I had to leave her, both of us in tears and snot. I would send her d1ck pics, and she would send hers back. At 25, she suddenly stopped mailing me. I thought she was gone. 5 months later, she was at my door in Busan, with her hand out to me when I opened the door. We're married in our 40's now, and we've taken walks through multiple cities together across the world and we always stop someplace that has noodles and play this song on our phone. Thank you Mariya. Your love may be plastic, but her d1ck is not.