Òyì nke e mepụtara

I swear Tahoma Bold is stalking me. I can’t escape it. I’ll be minding my own business, living a normal, sans‑serif life, and suddenly—BAM—there it is again, glaring at me like it owns the place. Street signs? Tahoma Bold. Coffee shop menus? Tahoma Bold. That passive‑aggressive note in the office kitchen telling people to “PLEASE CLEAN THE MICROWAVE”? Absolutely Tahoma Bold, screaming at me in its perfectly rounded, aggressively neutral letters. It’s like the font equivalent of someone who insi