Friday, January 18, 2013

Hello world. It’s me, Chris.

I exist. I may be insignificant among all those who exist, have ever existed or shall exist, but I exist. I live. I breathe. I absorb energy. I exert energy. Sometimes, I even move and speak. So maybe you have never seen me, but somebody has to write all this stuff, nie?

I was beginning to think that I am invisible. And I don’t mean figuratively invisible as in “Whoa as me. There’s no place in society for a woman my age”. No, not like that. I was beginning to think that I am literally invisible – as in POOF! Where’s she gone? –invisible. Why? Because in a 24-hour period I have had road salt thrown on me from the front (yummy), sidewalk sand thrown on me from behind and then I was plowed over by a lady running to catch the bus in the morning. No “przepraszam’s. No “sorki’s”. Nothing.

But after this morning I guess I am not so invisible. It is amazing how a smile and a one-word invitation, “Kawa?” from a gentleman on the street can make you suddenly feel visible again. My existence has been reinforced. Even if my reply was a demure, “Dziękuje, ale nie.” (And yes, I did look behind me to make sure he was talking to me.)

Disappointed? What should I have said? I cannot go for a coffee with you because…
I’m married?
I have 2 children?
I just may be old enough to be your mother?
I’m due at work in less than 10 minutes?
I’ve already had 3 cups of coffee this morning and I’m bursting at the seams?
I only drink coffee with strange men for money?
All or any of these? I mean they are all true, even the last one, (don’t judge me) but none of them is the reason I refused.

Ok, I confess, it was his jeans, his impossibly small, incredibly tight skinny jeans. You know the kind of jeans so tight as to render a fellah infertile. Those kind of jeans. I’m not a picky gal, really. And it’s not for reasons of fashion that I refused as the guy looked good. In fact, I think he took notice of me because we were similarly dressed, very matchy-matchy, or perhaps he was impressed by my example of superb parking skills today as a slid into a teeny-tiny spot. It was a complete fluke. Everybody knows that I need at least 3 parking spots to park my one car. Well, everybody knows except that guy.

I am a woman of principle (well kind of) and I have a rule: Just say no to boys whose dzinsowe rurki are smaller than yours. Simple. Easy. Effective. Guaranteed to keep you out of trouble. Take that advice free of charge.

11 comments:

Marek Cyzio said...

Thank you for this great advice! Now I know why my wife makes me buy these way too small jeans, it is to protect me from other women!

ds said...

KOCHAM CIĘ CHRIS :)

Chris said...

Marek-It only protects you from women like me, women with principles...ok with one principle that her man's jeans cannot be smaller than her own :)

ds- What have I done to deserve this? :)

Lois B said...

Haha, Never a dull day in Wroclaw, let me add smaller jeans or nicer hair to the list.

ds said...

you made me laugh. that's more than enough ;)

Chris said...

good enough for me :)

Anonymous said...
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Olivia D {The Road to Poland} said...

It must be the new hair... Probably takes 10 years off ya'! ;) The other day in H&M I couldn't tell if I was int he guy section or the girl section. I had to seriously check out the mannequin's "features" to figure it out. The clothes could have gone either way.

Chris said...

Our Lizzie doesn't recognize that there are guy's and girl's sections - just clothes that she will wear (guy's) and clothes that she won't wear (girl's). She's a little rebel.

Rosie, on the other hand, enters H&M and asks, "where are the dresses?".

We have 2 completely different little girls.

And about the hair- I'm going a little shorter aka (hopefully) younger.

Siekierka said...

Nice blog :)

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