I met a Polish boy a few days ago.
I was standing outside of a bar, smoking a cig and, from the corner of my eye, I could see him. First he was looking at me, then he took a couple of steps towards me, he stopped, then he walked a little more. I pretended that I didn’t see him. Finally, after million years, he stood next to me. ‘Hi’ he said shyly. I looked at him. I couldn’t help but notice that he wore bermuda shorts pulled up way above his waste, and a pair of very un-stylish leather sandals.
‘Hi’ I replied without enthusiasm. ‘Why aren’t you smiling? Smile!’ he whispered in my ear.
I looked at him again.
‘You are from Poland’ I said matter of factly in my mother tongue.
‘Yeah!’ he exclaimed ‘How did you know?!’
‘Lucky guess’ I mumbled to myself, turned around and went back in.
Because you see, my ladies, Polish guys (most of them anyway) not only don’t know how to dress, but they also use terrible pick up lines – that’s how you know they are from Poland.