Sitting in Nero on Chmielna in Warsaw doing some writing I lock my eyes with a tall slim brunette, they are piercing, bright blue and she holds contact with me for a second longer than polite. I watch her long slim bare legs in white shorts walk over and sit on her own in the corner by the window. I go back to my work. A few minutes later I look over and she is still there, no one else has joined her yet. I’m ready to call an end to my work session so pack up and head over to her. “Hello, do you speak English? … You look nice… Oh, you’re a doctor… I couldn’t work with people like that, not sick people… Yes, I prefer my own company… I’m in Warsaw looking for a wife, that and the bread, you make amazing bread here… OK, I spend an hour or two on my online businesses and then spend the rest of my day writing and reading. Fiction, it’s shit. I’m a terrible writer… I have to go, another time let’s have coffee.”
I get her out on Friday at 7pm. I turn up and she looks great, she has the same white shorts, but a nicer top, blue hugging her little breasts tightly and matching her mid heeled sandals. I go to hold her hand to greet her, she smiles and then lets got of my hand quickly. I tell her I’m hungry and want some pizza. She agrees and then takes off walking. I follow for a few steps and then stop. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“You want to go for dinner.” She replies and continues walking.
I take a few more steps and say. “Well let’s discuss where we are going.”
“Ok.” She says as she is walking like an Olympian
I walk with her for a bit and think to myself, this is ridiculous, it’s probably just her nerves.
I grab her arm. She pulls it away from me. “Wow, wow, wow.” I say Iike I’m speaking to a horse.”
She calms down. “let’s go and sit over here on the seat and relax a bit and decide on dinner.” She agrees and we sit on the seat.
I calm her down and she starts asking me questions about what I have been doing, my writing. She tells me she has just finished med school and is now doing her internship. She rides horses and dances in her spare time. She doesn’t look at me much, but when she does, the eyes are piercing and sexual.
“I am trying to be a gentleman, but I did notice your legs and thought you might be a dancer.”
She smiled and said. “Your bad.”
“I know. I’m a pervert.”
She looked at me for a brief second and a voice came to me. “I’m fucking this girl.”
We decide on pizza and get up and start walking. She takes off again at the pace of a jog, she is overtaking everyone on the street. I keep up with her for 10 seconds and ask myself, what the fuck am I doing? And slow down to my regular pace and let her get 10 metres ahead of me. She stops and waits and then takes off again. Something is definitely weird about this girl. I just ignore that she is doing it and let her keep waiting for me.
We get into a restaurant. I order pizza. She orders an ice-cream telling me she has already eaten.
“Tell me a secret about you. Something not many people would know.”
“I have no scerets….
“Tell some bad or dirty thoughts you have?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Ok tell me your biggest weakness then.”
“I am too nice to people. I have too much empathy. That’s why I came out with you tonight, because I thought you were travelling and would have no friends here.”
“That is very nice of you.” I say wondering if the fuck me eyes are part of her empathy.
“Tell me about you. What is your weakness.”
“Well I am the opposite. I lack empathy.”
“Oh no!” she exclaims with delight. “You are a psychopath. I knew it.”
“Yeah. I bury my bodies at the park.”
“What do you write about?” She asks
“I would like to see some.” She says
She asks about my kids and seems interested so I tell her and about my life back in Australia. She keeps asking questions and I keep answering until I realise the topic is too much on me
“So tell me about you” I say
“Who do you live with? Your husband?”
“No, I have a boyfriend, but I don’t live with him, he travels a lot.”
She avoids most other personal topics as I tried to pry deeper and break the shell.
“I think you have a deep and creative inner world. I think you are scared for anyone to see this world, so you keep it locked inside. You do everything to make it look like you are normal. A medical doctor, horse riding, dance classes, boyfriend, but deep down there is a much richer you that you hide from everyone.”
“I can see why you are a writer. I want to change the subject.” she says lowering her head and smiling like she has been caught out.
We finish dinner and I say. “Come on let’s go for a walk and sit in the park.”
She takes off, this time not quite as fast, but still faster than I am walking.
“OK, you ride horses. In Australia when a horse takes off and you want it to stop we say ‘Whoa, Whoa.’ What do you say in Polish.”
“Stuie” She says
So now we had a game and I would keep calling Stuie every time she got more than a few steps ahead of me. She would wait and then we would walk together. It was a bit like training my dog when I used to say “heal.” But she was more like a house, tall long and flighty with her long straight hair falling over her face.
We got to the park and she mentioned seeing my writing again. “One day.” I said oblivious to the hint that I would have to take her to my apartment. We find a seat and I imagine there will be some kissing and an invite to my apartment, but she is on the attack.
“I have studied some psychoanalysis and I think you are a narcisis.”
“I had a friend. I was just trying to help her, but she had personality disorder.”
“I probably have that too.”
“I think you’re a psychopath.”
I was a bit fed up by this stage and said. “I think if there was a trained analyst here he would look at us both and say you were by far the one with more issues. He would say I am open and honest and willing to tell my stories and get feedback, but he would say you are closed and dishonest and that you are suffering neurosis.”
I said it with a smile, possibly jest, but it wasn’t helping me get laid, I had misread the signs.
She shook her head, was quite for a bit and then changed the subject. “I want to see your writing.”
“Maybe next time.” I said having a date plan and her not adhering to it. I imagined some touching and maybe a kiss on the park bench and then an excuse to come back to my apartment only a stones throw away.
She stood up and said. “I’m going.”
“Ok.” I said remaining seated trying to hold the frame. She walked away.
How could I have mis-read this so badly? I believe in my initial intuition of “I’m fucking this girl.” I have seen that look dozens of times. She was about to be a medical professional, she had a boyfriend, she was an upstanding member of the community; horse riding, dance classes. She came out to see me under the guise of ‘being nice – maybe I was lonely.’ She was a voracious sexual creature, a dirty slut, that under no circumstances would take any responsibility for such. She wanted me to take her back to my apartment to “read her my writing” and then force myself on her so it wasn’t her fault, it just happened, and I took advantage of her. And I failed to do just that.