Warsawa can today not be called the pearl under the East European
cities precisely. Compared to Prague it lacks some basics even modern
day travellers who are far away from the Beats or Hippies or alternative
shoestring travellers demand as in Tony Wheeler’s bygone days: a
bohemiesk population, girls with esprit, delightful local restaurants
with well cooked local delicacies, friendly people on squares who
recommend cheap hostels and pensions that really exist to name just a
few.
But Warsawa has an impressive railway station when you arrive for example from the Baltic sea baths and head on to phantastic hilltribes in the Tatra mountains. Outside there are huge and gigantic buldings from the Soviet area that are still impressive, alternating with architectural turds constructed by former pubescent readers of Perry Rhodan booklets who later joined some European commission for the benefit of humanity. So the contemporary architectural nightmare and Baustellen-Marathon are one big disadvantage when coming to Warsaw the first time. Accompanied by a general population that is so absolutely hating any foreigner who does not behave Polish, does not speak Polish and is not Polish, “POLSKI??!!”
Warsaw Main Station Information Reception Desk: “One ticket to Panjesackowje please” no answer but hectic behaviour of a middle age Polish woman with curly black Dauerwellen and glasses. “Excuse me please, I want to go to Panjesackowje by train or to the next train station near Panjesackowje please”. “Njet Njet Panjosackowje!!” “OK, but then the next train station near to Panjosackowje please” “Njet Njet no ticket no ticket!” “Don’t you speak english a bit Madam? This is Warsawa main station international information desk?!” “Njet Njet, Polski, Polski, no ticket no ticket”. I tried another attempt when I was pushed away by an elderly gentleman with a Schiebermütze, grey well cut cut beard, exquisite walking stick, quite expensive Lodenjacke and shiny leather shoes. He began to talk in Polish to her and was served perfectly well and shoved his ass in front of me when I decided to drop my good manners: “what the hell are you doing now in front of me, old man, I was just enquiring” She did not react a bit to that intervention but finished conversation with the intruder when I pushed him away with my behind and talked to hear again “Are you always that unpolite? I asked you for a connection to Panjosackowje, this is an information desk right of the main station of the capital Warsawa in the middle of the bloody European Union? Is that right or are you the desk cleaner here?” “BUS STATION BUS STATION!!” she shouted and cried “BUS STATION BUS STATION” “So where is the bus station then madam?” “NJET NJET NJET BUS!” “So could you please give me hint where the Grand Bus Station of Warsawa is?” She stood up behind her desk and the old intruder tried again to push me away because I guess he thought conversation was finished when I kicked his suitcase some meters away to get some space for more enquiries at Warsaw Main Station Information Reception Desk. That worked out quite well because she was now pointing to some direction with her index finger and red sweaty face. “Thank you very much madam” I said and went away, passing the suitcase of that old fart not giving it a kick this time but said to him: “don’t try hat again with me at the bus station you idiot, we all know you are AOI”, I showed him an old long term ticket from Amsterdam with my photo in it and went away quickly but nobody was even watching or raising an eybrow because that was all regarded as decent behaviour there.
I asked several other people in that giant railway station where the bus station is and nobody even tried to listen or answer. But they also did not ignore me but disrespected me in a peculiar way I have only seen in Eastern Europe so far. Not in the Baltic region, they play it differently, but especially in Poland and some other Eastern states they are into a special blend of ignorance plus a vicious kind of annoyance about my shere existence as a foreign invader that I appreciate as a unique theatre so far.
So what you do then without signs, signals and real information: ask a taxi driver they were always travellers friends in the world I knew and off course they were lined up also outside Warsawa Railway Station ready to be asked, what I did. They did not understand the word ‘bus station’ at all or pointed all in different directions. I got a little angry about that policy because I would have taken a taxi perhaps if they would have told me but without any sign of human politeness I denied them that service plus income because sometimes they claim to know, there, and instead drive you to the next German run hotel to hand me over to the really best service. That has happened to me before twice but I always gave them a chance to behave like travellers friends. “Ah come on I said, just tell me how to get to the Main Bus Station for national and international busses here” “KURVA” he shouted and closed his window. I made my way along the line of waiting taxis to just annoy those bitches in there. They were all shutting down when I came and asked when suddenly one of them opened the door, pointed his index finger to his head and shouted “KURVA , Metro, KURVA” and pointed to some direction where I went and I found a metro station passing his “IDIOT! KURVA! METRO! IDIOT!”
I went down and saw a good looking woman in her mid-twenties with high heels and leather pants and asked her: “Do you know the way to the bus station for international and overland busses maybe” “Ohhh off course” she replied in good english, ” just take line number four platform three, and get out at Sejmskaja station, there you find all busses, national and international, where are you going?” she asked so interested. “To Panjesackowje!”, she smiled now with a different tone, pity and remorse in it that she ever liked me and talked to me before I guess, as if I had just told her I would go to run a rentboy service over there or fingerbang her dog and said “good luck” and turned away. “How did I manage to blow this one”, I asked myself, the usual suspects are not in sight. The inner depths and beauties of a Polish soul were still an unexplored territory to me so far. So I moved on to the very wild and remote areas to embrace it there, I hoped.
I did take the bus from Warsawa bus station that was a delight by the way compared to the growing sterility of railway central station. There were local shops and a local restaurant with Polish housewifes delicacies cooked and served by a Polish housewife with thick glasses and chubby figure who was into me from the moment on I ate half of her foodstock away but her husband had the sixth sense for what was going on and began to grunt and howl with anger when I even looked up from my plate. I ate beetroots with kasha and pork with mushrooms when I looked up to greet the cook who was staring at me from behind her reception desk “bang, bang” it went and some pots and pans were dropped on the floor by her husband who shouted loud and everybody looked up to stare at me.
This was a base of real Polish spirituality I believe wholeheartedly even today: the deep caring of Polish housewife types for passing strangers who whorship their food arts and the danger behind that because they always have an angry husband with moustache in the back and his fellow countrymen. And that is wonderful and intriguing but keep it in mind that you might get one full swing and lie there on your back without front teeth and nobody gives a shit. But: don’t give up. There are cheap dentists available everywhere in Poland - the countr is famous for that, I don't know why.
The bus was the usual nightmare, it just stopped there one time since departure from another town and when I climbed in there was the full program of a driver who has never stopped for the last 800 km before and some “exciting music” everywhere to be heard in the bus as they call the electronic devices from KURVA Electronics Ltd. to calm down the passengers in spite of their red swollen faces and tinnitus after the journey because the bus never stops with its “music” and peps up the driver at the same time by different devices in front of him so he sees no need to ever stop because he does not feel a damn thing. That is what they believe the devices of KURVA Electronics Ltd. are good for. They never turn them off, never, even if Mother Mary would ask them, they would not without explanation, because ‘it’s good’.
I suspect the usual suspects behind that: Agents of INTERZONE, AOI as they call themselves sometimes, because nobody on this planet would ever do such a thing except the AOI. They must have a secret agenda nobody would ever dare to imagine or could sense. I entered that disaster area of an international overland bus with the help of a fellow traveller from Salzburg in Austria, who approached me at the bus station just a minute before to “take care of me and help me out of the most miserable situation here by those unfriendly Polish fellows who are not allowed to speak anything but Polish” . “Yes I realized that” I told him, some very strange behaviour at information points even in the central station, I have never seen anything like that in 35 years of travelling, also the non explanation of that behaviour. Even in the African bush they told you after a while: “we are not allowed to talk to strangers”. He watched me with a sinistre look suddenly and stretched his arm in front of him and made a movement like ‘calm down’ by raising and lowering his hand rhytmically. “We are all not very young anymore and should all be patient and quiet” he told me sitting for the sake of all gods in another row of the bus, not next to me because I managed to keep him away a bit from me and my money “I can feel that vibration of yours because I am a psychologist from Salzburg and do not like this at all because I am here to enjoy myself in my vacations, we are all not so young and healthy anymore” “That is cool” I answered, because I am a psychologist and anthropologist from Berlin and we could start a convention here about Polish national charactre”. He did not touch that line at all but said: “there is no battery in your notebook, why are you playing to use it?” “That is another secret hole the battery is here" I raised my notebook and showed him the intestines of my working machine. “we will get along well” he said, I can hook you up in Panjesackowje, I have many friends there, beautiful people there and very helpful, how much do you want to pay for a hotel, fifteen Euros, ten Euros or three Euros?” “Yes I am going for that” I answered”. I just met a nice young lady who was so delighted with my destination Panjesackowje that she even tried to give me a free blow job at the metro station spontaneously". He looked at me with a horrified expression of disgust and leaned over a bit to catch a glimpse of my scrotch so he could see my dick and my Hodensack in my pants, as I realized immediately. “I am psychologist he said and I have bank accounts everywhere, even in Denmark and Sweden, so I told you before do not spray bad energy around, I feel that everywhere here around us.” “How did you get a bank account in Denmark, Sweden and Norway, I mean that is pretty difficult for a foreigner, but never mind hook me up with a good hotel in Panjesackowje where I can do a good old fashioned seeing thru with a good looking horny and juicy prosi of the town, tight ass and big tits please, will you? And no complaints from the hotel staff, I hate that” That did shut him up all the way from Warsawa to Panjesackowje about seven hours “ all non stop but with “music”.
In Panjesackowje he waited for me patiently outside the bus and said: “I have two or three hotels for you: from 70 to 80 Szloty” “Wow" I said, “let’s hear and he told me. “Well thank you very much I said, how can I thank you for your gratitude and your wisdom you presented to me for free? ” He smelled my rat: “Yes yes, I will stay with my friends and leave you out of our kleine Gemeinschaft." Oh yes, I said, my full understanding, my full and complete understanding, I am not read yet your circles and wisdom" and I made kinky gay gesture and shook his hand that was soft as dough and barely unfeelable - I felt like vomiting and then butchering him up. I just went away without waiting for anything else for example another invitation to a Good Ole Boy Party with pants down or anything and out of curiosity I went to the first option he told me to see what this was about.
It was a typical big Polish two or two and a halfstar hotel with a chubby receptionist and more than 200 rooms eagerly waiting for me to explore the underlying Polish spirituality.. “Do you have a reservation?” “Yes off course I have I said, I have a reservation and personal recommendation of Mr. Salzburg from the AOI just from the bus ride from Warsawa.” I showed her my old Dutch tram ticket passport with photo. "OK we can take you for just one night". Why is that, Mr. Salzburg is a high ranking AOI officer and psychiatrist and I want to stay on your premises for about a week. I pay in advance, no problem.”
“Tomorrow is all fully booked, we are full of children here, you know, all full of children, but tonight there is also a boys class here, I hope they do not disturb you to much” No, absolutely not" I said, because I decided to move on to a better equipped building.” Why not stay?” she asked. "because I like real sized women you know and gave her my most intriguing smiley look because I felt horny as hell suddenly” she made herself available. She felt good with that and began to ask, as they always do when they are really interested and eager to see if they are not going to fuck a monster from a swamp but want to fuck. “What about Mr. Salzburg from the bus, your old friend” “I never said he is an old friend of mine but I know he was just brought to the hospital here” I said” I pushed him in front of a stopping bus and everybody applaused and gave me presents". She did not raise an eyebrow: “So what about us ?”she said without wasting time. Do you have time off now, because I have to search for a new hotel after”
She put a billboard on her desk “Off duty, come back in 30 minutes” “I see you have a tight schedule” I intervened, “is that enough?” “Yes I am tight as well” “Good to hear that, so …”and she went off to a hotel room in the third floor, undressed an spread like an eagle ready to be taken for a flight out in the Gorilistan mountains, that’s were we were, inhabited by the famous and infamous Gorals, a hill tribe with the worst reputation ever in Eastern Europe. “Well now I know where your good name comes from” I said when I took here from behind. “No I doubt that” she moaned, “you have not tasted more than the entree yet.” “I will do, you Polish soulmate of my heart I grunted” Time was over very quick and she was nearly right about her physical condition but I gave her the full 30 minutes performance and we both had to move on.
I watched for another hotel or pension in Goralistan after kissing my new sweetheart goodbye. I was taken in by a peculiar small pension run by a gypsie and he had also a chubby receptionist, but she was his sister so I did not touch that line and went out on the streets of Goralistan metropolis Panjesackowje that looked like a typical Europäisches Mittelgebirge tourist trap but only for Polish tourists and some rare German families maybe with a square outfit since I felt not really invited by the robust population of that fine spot, whose men were seated on Kutschen with mediocre imitations of traditional clothing. “Maybe he is Jew” that is what I heard whispering behind me and then they smiled as if I was always their best friend. When they were too bad, I was told, even for Goralistan standards, when it came to stealing and fraud from strangers, they were rolled down the Tatra mountain and then, being downed, the dust was shaken off them and they were sent off to another region or country, Germany , France or the UK mostly, to play another role, usually the poor and robbed jew, because most of them look like them with some imagination but were at the same time the worst antisemites in whole Poland.
So I was full of Abenteuerlust when I had paid my new appartement, freshly showered after the affair with the receptionist who was on my list for tomorrow as new Polish girlfriend and muse or maybe after her shift tonight and I strolled thru town. She was eager to meet me again she said, no questions asked. I ate heavy Goralksi food that was so fat and full of butter and oil that I nearly vomited in a dustbin but kept it down and smiled. I passed a catholic church with all the flags outside from the Holy See to town flags and church flags “ a holy mass was celebrated there obviously and I entered. There was Holy Water and the smell of incense so at least no new European Union universal church cult temple for the initiation of the young ones I thought and stepped into the Mittelschiff of the church where a priest celebrated the Holy Mass. There were just maybe 30 very old people with him and me and nobody from the young generation visiting the shops and cafes outside. It was as empty as I never expected that in Poland.
After the Mass I went outside, walked and crossed a street not even at the center of Panjesackowje without traffic light and heard a siren and screaming tyres first and then realized a police car next to me when it stopped and two blond Polish police women in their twenties jumped out and stopped me: "You committed a traffic violation Sir, stay silent and don’t move!” I looked at them and the police car and they reminded me of German New Police with their identicallly looking blue cars, blue uniforms, blue eyes and blond hair “What is wrong with you, do I have a bike or a car?” “You crossed a road without permission, Sir!” and that in typical american english they adopted from cheap cop series from Polski TV, sponsored by KURVA Electronics Ltd. maybe.
“I care for your health ladies, I said, you look quite distraught and you have red swollen face, maybe you should switch off some of your devices in your car” “Sir, you committed a serious traffic violation, you crossed a road by foot without permission. There was a pedestrian walk in town you should have crossed there in one kilometre distance and then walked the other side” ,"‘I am as a tourist in Poland and the Polish police just want to extort money as it was usual before with fire extinguishers and shit like that’: “How much money do you want?” They turned both more red than before and said: "You should think about that before!" "What the hell are you talking about?”” “You can not have intercourse with Goralski receptionist without paying tip or we fine you” “Is that a sad joke or what do want now for real, are you high, if yes, I want some of that dope you are on” “We have law book and penalcode hear, you can read here” “Ok please show me there is a fine for screwing Goralski recptionist in followig her wish, I thought she is my girlfriend and we go out later?!” “Here, you read! She gave me book with looked like the Polish version of the bible with an endless desert of text in typo size 7 I could not even try to read and said "Can you translate that for me please, it is in Polish in typo size 7.” “we are not obliged to translate anything there, but you can hire a lawyer from the precinct for traffic violation, you know, Verkehr nicht bezahlt” “Ok, how much is it” “70 Slzloty, same as hotel, is always same as hotel keep in mind” ” handed her 70 Szloty and she handed me a receipt saying I was crossing roads causing a serious interruption of öffentliche Verkehr” and they drove off.
I went back to my gypsy Pension immediately and and told my friend there that I was harassed by German looking blue police in Polish uniforms taking the piss for screwing my girlfriend or the other way round and he looked at me and said: “Better go away from Poland, will take more and more maybe” and he gave me back me prepaid rent with a very sad look like saying ‘do you think you can evade sex trouble in Poland by fucking chubby receptionist here? Maybe take all your money’ and I went out not give his sister the blinking eye at the reception because I seriously respected them and moved to the bus stand for a bus to Slovakia, where they shot the Hostel series.
Nobody on the street suddenly understood one word of English when I asked for the bus stop until I began to shout as usual and found one willing homosexual to tell me that there is minibus from KURVA Electronics Ltd. taking passengers up to the mountain border to Slovakia. He told me, that the worst Goralski whores were rolled down the mountain from the top back down to Panjosackowje by the Goralski men when they had done so bad, even for Goralski standards, that they were unbearable. Then they were send all across Europe to play the persecuted Jews from Poland, cry and whine around and get settled from London to Paris and Vienna and get a rich man.
The bus just arrived when my Polish Receptionist girlfriend got along crying together with the bus to Slovakia to take me on.
“My dear loved one, my darling, my heart, what are you doing, why are you leaving me?” she stopped in front of me in tradional clothes with a tear shattered face and gave me a bag of presents, Goralski food as I had before in the Medina of Panjosackowje, but the extra fat version for a long journey. “Is that mutton fat or just old butter" I asked here “Kleine Geschenkchen von Mutti, Police say you very good man, pay bill, why don’t you stay and go out with me, you promise before, you promise before” .
I did not answer because I saw Mr. Salzburg’s bald head shining on the other side of the street sitting in a bus waiting to step out to approach another guy he has rescued from the evils of the Polish communication maybe and I jumped into the bus to Slovakia ran to the driver and shouted “Move on Move on, KURVA!!” and he switched on his KURVA Electronics Ltd. Device and pushed the pedal down as much as he could while I stumbled by the sudden impact of power and crashed into a seat somewhere in the back but was lulled in by the sweet sounds of the strongest Polish radiation devices so far experienced for the short busride to Slovakia. KURVA Electronics Ltd. knew what to do for me.
Copyright 2018 by Ronald C. Kaiser
But Warsawa has an impressive railway station when you arrive for example from the Baltic sea baths and head on to phantastic hilltribes in the Tatra mountains. Outside there are huge and gigantic buldings from the Soviet area that are still impressive, alternating with architectural turds constructed by former pubescent readers of Perry Rhodan booklets who later joined some European commission for the benefit of humanity. So the contemporary architectural nightmare and Baustellen-Marathon are one big disadvantage when coming to Warsaw the first time. Accompanied by a general population that is so absolutely hating any foreigner who does not behave Polish, does not speak Polish and is not Polish, “POLSKI??!!”
Warsaw Main Station Information Reception Desk: “One ticket to Panjesackowje please” no answer but hectic behaviour of a middle age Polish woman with curly black Dauerwellen and glasses. “Excuse me please, I want to go to Panjesackowje by train or to the next train station near Panjesackowje please”. “Njet Njet Panjosackowje!!” “OK, but then the next train station near to Panjosackowje please” “Njet Njet no ticket no ticket!” “Don’t you speak english a bit Madam? This is Warsawa main station international information desk?!” “Njet Njet, Polski, Polski, no ticket no ticket”. I tried another attempt when I was pushed away by an elderly gentleman with a Schiebermütze, grey well cut cut beard, exquisite walking stick, quite expensive Lodenjacke and shiny leather shoes. He began to talk in Polish to her and was served perfectly well and shoved his ass in front of me when I decided to drop my good manners: “what the hell are you doing now in front of me, old man, I was just enquiring” She did not react a bit to that intervention but finished conversation with the intruder when I pushed him away with my behind and talked to hear again “Are you always that unpolite? I asked you for a connection to Panjosackowje, this is an information desk right of the main station of the capital Warsawa in the middle of the bloody European Union? Is that right or are you the desk cleaner here?” “BUS STATION BUS STATION!!” she shouted and cried “BUS STATION BUS STATION” “So where is the bus station then madam?” “NJET NJET NJET BUS!” “So could you please give me hint where the Grand Bus Station of Warsawa is?” She stood up behind her desk and the old intruder tried again to push me away because I guess he thought conversation was finished when I kicked his suitcase some meters away to get some space for more enquiries at Warsaw Main Station Information Reception Desk. That worked out quite well because she was now pointing to some direction with her index finger and red sweaty face. “Thank you very much madam” I said and went away, passing the suitcase of that old fart not giving it a kick this time but said to him: “don’t try hat again with me at the bus station you idiot, we all know you are AOI”, I showed him an old long term ticket from Amsterdam with my photo in it and went away quickly but nobody was even watching or raising an eybrow because that was all regarded as decent behaviour there.
I asked several other people in that giant railway station where the bus station is and nobody even tried to listen or answer. But they also did not ignore me but disrespected me in a peculiar way I have only seen in Eastern Europe so far. Not in the Baltic region, they play it differently, but especially in Poland and some other Eastern states they are into a special blend of ignorance plus a vicious kind of annoyance about my shere existence as a foreign invader that I appreciate as a unique theatre so far.
So what you do then without signs, signals and real information: ask a taxi driver they were always travellers friends in the world I knew and off course they were lined up also outside Warsawa Railway Station ready to be asked, what I did. They did not understand the word ‘bus station’ at all or pointed all in different directions. I got a little angry about that policy because I would have taken a taxi perhaps if they would have told me but without any sign of human politeness I denied them that service plus income because sometimes they claim to know, there, and instead drive you to the next German run hotel to hand me over to the really best service. That has happened to me before twice but I always gave them a chance to behave like travellers friends. “Ah come on I said, just tell me how to get to the Main Bus Station for national and international busses here” “KURVA” he shouted and closed his window. I made my way along the line of waiting taxis to just annoy those bitches in there. They were all shutting down when I came and asked when suddenly one of them opened the door, pointed his index finger to his head and shouted “KURVA , Metro, KURVA” and pointed to some direction where I went and I found a metro station passing his “IDIOT! KURVA! METRO! IDIOT!”
I went down and saw a good looking woman in her mid-twenties with high heels and leather pants and asked her: “Do you know the way to the bus station for international and overland busses maybe” “Ohhh off course” she replied in good english, ” just take line number four platform three, and get out at Sejmskaja station, there you find all busses, national and international, where are you going?” she asked so interested. “To Panjesackowje!”, she smiled now with a different tone, pity and remorse in it that she ever liked me and talked to me before I guess, as if I had just told her I would go to run a rentboy service over there or fingerbang her dog and said “good luck” and turned away. “How did I manage to blow this one”, I asked myself, the usual suspects are not in sight. The inner depths and beauties of a Polish soul were still an unexplored territory to me so far. So I moved on to the very wild and remote areas to embrace it there, I hoped.
I did take the bus from Warsawa bus station that was a delight by the way compared to the growing sterility of railway central station. There were local shops and a local restaurant with Polish housewifes delicacies cooked and served by a Polish housewife with thick glasses and chubby figure who was into me from the moment on I ate half of her foodstock away but her husband had the sixth sense for what was going on and began to grunt and howl with anger when I even looked up from my plate. I ate beetroots with kasha and pork with mushrooms when I looked up to greet the cook who was staring at me from behind her reception desk “bang, bang” it went and some pots and pans were dropped on the floor by her husband who shouted loud and everybody looked up to stare at me.
This was a base of real Polish spirituality I believe wholeheartedly even today: the deep caring of Polish housewife types for passing strangers who whorship their food arts and the danger behind that because they always have an angry husband with moustache in the back and his fellow countrymen. And that is wonderful and intriguing but keep it in mind that you might get one full swing and lie there on your back without front teeth and nobody gives a shit. But: don’t give up. There are cheap dentists available everywhere in Poland - the countr is famous for that, I don't know why.
The bus was the usual nightmare, it just stopped there one time since departure from another town and when I climbed in there was the full program of a driver who has never stopped for the last 800 km before and some “exciting music” everywhere to be heard in the bus as they call the electronic devices from KURVA Electronics Ltd. to calm down the passengers in spite of their red swollen faces and tinnitus after the journey because the bus never stops with its “music” and peps up the driver at the same time by different devices in front of him so he sees no need to ever stop because he does not feel a damn thing. That is what they believe the devices of KURVA Electronics Ltd. are good for. They never turn them off, never, even if Mother Mary would ask them, they would not without explanation, because ‘it’s good’.
I suspect the usual suspects behind that: Agents of INTERZONE, AOI as they call themselves sometimes, because nobody on this planet would ever do such a thing except the AOI. They must have a secret agenda nobody would ever dare to imagine or could sense. I entered that disaster area of an international overland bus with the help of a fellow traveller from Salzburg in Austria, who approached me at the bus station just a minute before to “take care of me and help me out of the most miserable situation here by those unfriendly Polish fellows who are not allowed to speak anything but Polish” . “Yes I realized that” I told him, some very strange behaviour at information points even in the central station, I have never seen anything like that in 35 years of travelling, also the non explanation of that behaviour. Even in the African bush they told you after a while: “we are not allowed to talk to strangers”. He watched me with a sinistre look suddenly and stretched his arm in front of him and made a movement like ‘calm down’ by raising and lowering his hand rhytmically. “We are all not very young anymore and should all be patient and quiet” he told me sitting for the sake of all gods in another row of the bus, not next to me because I managed to keep him away a bit from me and my money “I can feel that vibration of yours because I am a psychologist from Salzburg and do not like this at all because I am here to enjoy myself in my vacations, we are all not so young and healthy anymore” “That is cool” I answered, because I am a psychologist and anthropologist from Berlin and we could start a convention here about Polish national charactre”. He did not touch that line at all but said: “there is no battery in your notebook, why are you playing to use it?” “That is another secret hole the battery is here" I raised my notebook and showed him the intestines of my working machine. “we will get along well” he said, I can hook you up in Panjesackowje, I have many friends there, beautiful people there and very helpful, how much do you want to pay for a hotel, fifteen Euros, ten Euros or three Euros?” “Yes I am going for that” I answered”. I just met a nice young lady who was so delighted with my destination Panjesackowje that she even tried to give me a free blow job at the metro station spontaneously". He looked at me with a horrified expression of disgust and leaned over a bit to catch a glimpse of my scrotch so he could see my dick and my Hodensack in my pants, as I realized immediately. “I am psychologist he said and I have bank accounts everywhere, even in Denmark and Sweden, so I told you before do not spray bad energy around, I feel that everywhere here around us.” “How did you get a bank account in Denmark, Sweden and Norway, I mean that is pretty difficult for a foreigner, but never mind hook me up with a good hotel in Panjesackowje where I can do a good old fashioned seeing thru with a good looking horny and juicy prosi of the town, tight ass and big tits please, will you? And no complaints from the hotel staff, I hate that” That did shut him up all the way from Warsawa to Panjesackowje about seven hours “ all non stop but with “music”.
In Panjesackowje he waited for me patiently outside the bus and said: “I have two or three hotels for you: from 70 to 80 Szloty” “Wow" I said, “let’s hear and he told me. “Well thank you very much I said, how can I thank you for your gratitude and your wisdom you presented to me for free? ” He smelled my rat: “Yes yes, I will stay with my friends and leave you out of our kleine Gemeinschaft." Oh yes, I said, my full understanding, my full and complete understanding, I am not read yet your circles and wisdom" and I made kinky gay gesture and shook his hand that was soft as dough and barely unfeelable - I felt like vomiting and then butchering him up. I just went away without waiting for anything else for example another invitation to a Good Ole Boy Party with pants down or anything and out of curiosity I went to the first option he told me to see what this was about.
It was a typical big Polish two or two and a halfstar hotel with a chubby receptionist and more than 200 rooms eagerly waiting for me to explore the underlying Polish spirituality.. “Do you have a reservation?” “Yes off course I have I said, I have a reservation and personal recommendation of Mr. Salzburg from the AOI just from the bus ride from Warsawa.” I showed her my old Dutch tram ticket passport with photo. "OK we can take you for just one night". Why is that, Mr. Salzburg is a high ranking AOI officer and psychiatrist and I want to stay on your premises for about a week. I pay in advance, no problem.”
“Tomorrow is all fully booked, we are full of children here, you know, all full of children, but tonight there is also a boys class here, I hope they do not disturb you to much” No, absolutely not" I said, because I decided to move on to a better equipped building.” Why not stay?” she asked. "because I like real sized women you know and gave her my most intriguing smiley look because I felt horny as hell suddenly” she made herself available. She felt good with that and began to ask, as they always do when they are really interested and eager to see if they are not going to fuck a monster from a swamp but want to fuck. “What about Mr. Salzburg from the bus, your old friend” “I never said he is an old friend of mine but I know he was just brought to the hospital here” I said” I pushed him in front of a stopping bus and everybody applaused and gave me presents". She did not raise an eyebrow: “So what about us ?”she said without wasting time. Do you have time off now, because I have to search for a new hotel after”
She put a billboard on her desk “Off duty, come back in 30 minutes” “I see you have a tight schedule” I intervened, “is that enough?” “Yes I am tight as well” “Good to hear that, so …”and she went off to a hotel room in the third floor, undressed an spread like an eagle ready to be taken for a flight out in the Gorilistan mountains, that’s were we were, inhabited by the famous and infamous Gorals, a hill tribe with the worst reputation ever in Eastern Europe. “Well now I know where your good name comes from” I said when I took here from behind. “No I doubt that” she moaned, “you have not tasted more than the entree yet.” “I will do, you Polish soulmate of my heart I grunted” Time was over very quick and she was nearly right about her physical condition but I gave her the full 30 minutes performance and we both had to move on.
I watched for another hotel or pension in Goralistan after kissing my new sweetheart goodbye. I was taken in by a peculiar small pension run by a gypsie and he had also a chubby receptionist, but she was his sister so I did not touch that line and went out on the streets of Goralistan metropolis Panjesackowje that looked like a typical Europäisches Mittelgebirge tourist trap but only for Polish tourists and some rare German families maybe with a square outfit since I felt not really invited by the robust population of that fine spot, whose men were seated on Kutschen with mediocre imitations of traditional clothing. “Maybe he is Jew” that is what I heard whispering behind me and then they smiled as if I was always their best friend. When they were too bad, I was told, even for Goralistan standards, when it came to stealing and fraud from strangers, they were rolled down the Tatra mountain and then, being downed, the dust was shaken off them and they were sent off to another region or country, Germany , France or the UK mostly, to play another role, usually the poor and robbed jew, because most of them look like them with some imagination but were at the same time the worst antisemites in whole Poland.
So I was full of Abenteuerlust when I had paid my new appartement, freshly showered after the affair with the receptionist who was on my list for tomorrow as new Polish girlfriend and muse or maybe after her shift tonight and I strolled thru town. She was eager to meet me again she said, no questions asked. I ate heavy Goralksi food that was so fat and full of butter and oil that I nearly vomited in a dustbin but kept it down and smiled. I passed a catholic church with all the flags outside from the Holy See to town flags and church flags “ a holy mass was celebrated there obviously and I entered. There was Holy Water and the smell of incense so at least no new European Union universal church cult temple for the initiation of the young ones I thought and stepped into the Mittelschiff of the church where a priest celebrated the Holy Mass. There were just maybe 30 very old people with him and me and nobody from the young generation visiting the shops and cafes outside. It was as empty as I never expected that in Poland.
After the Mass I went outside, walked and crossed a street not even at the center of Panjesackowje without traffic light and heard a siren and screaming tyres first and then realized a police car next to me when it stopped and two blond Polish police women in their twenties jumped out and stopped me: "You committed a traffic violation Sir, stay silent and don’t move!” I looked at them and the police car and they reminded me of German New Police with their identicallly looking blue cars, blue uniforms, blue eyes and blond hair “What is wrong with you, do I have a bike or a car?” “You crossed a road without permission, Sir!” and that in typical american english they adopted from cheap cop series from Polski TV, sponsored by KURVA Electronics Ltd. maybe.
“I care for your health ladies, I said, you look quite distraught and you have red swollen face, maybe you should switch off some of your devices in your car” “Sir, you committed a serious traffic violation, you crossed a road by foot without permission. There was a pedestrian walk in town you should have crossed there in one kilometre distance and then walked the other side” ,"‘I am as a tourist in Poland and the Polish police just want to extort money as it was usual before with fire extinguishers and shit like that’: “How much money do you want?” They turned both more red than before and said: "You should think about that before!" "What the hell are you talking about?”” “You can not have intercourse with Goralski receptionist without paying tip or we fine you” “Is that a sad joke or what do want now for real, are you high, if yes, I want some of that dope you are on” “We have law book and penalcode hear, you can read here” “Ok please show me there is a fine for screwing Goralski recptionist in followig her wish, I thought she is my girlfriend and we go out later?!” “Here, you read! She gave me book with looked like the Polish version of the bible with an endless desert of text in typo size 7 I could not even try to read and said "Can you translate that for me please, it is in Polish in typo size 7.” “we are not obliged to translate anything there, but you can hire a lawyer from the precinct for traffic violation, you know, Verkehr nicht bezahlt” “Ok, how much is it” “70 Slzloty, same as hotel, is always same as hotel keep in mind” ” handed her 70 Szloty and she handed me a receipt saying I was crossing roads causing a serious interruption of öffentliche Verkehr” and they drove off.
I went back to my gypsy Pension immediately and and told my friend there that I was harassed by German looking blue police in Polish uniforms taking the piss for screwing my girlfriend or the other way round and he looked at me and said: “Better go away from Poland, will take more and more maybe” and he gave me back me prepaid rent with a very sad look like saying ‘do you think you can evade sex trouble in Poland by fucking chubby receptionist here? Maybe take all your money’ and I went out not give his sister the blinking eye at the reception because I seriously respected them and moved to the bus stand for a bus to Slovakia, where they shot the Hostel series.
Nobody on the street suddenly understood one word of English when I asked for the bus stop until I began to shout as usual and found one willing homosexual to tell me that there is minibus from KURVA Electronics Ltd. taking passengers up to the mountain border to Slovakia. He told me, that the worst Goralski whores were rolled down the mountain from the top back down to Panjosackowje by the Goralski men when they had done so bad, even for Goralski standards, that they were unbearable. Then they were send all across Europe to play the persecuted Jews from Poland, cry and whine around and get settled from London to Paris and Vienna and get a rich man.
The bus just arrived when my Polish Receptionist girlfriend got along crying together with the bus to Slovakia to take me on.
“My dear loved one, my darling, my heart, what are you doing, why are you leaving me?” she stopped in front of me in tradional clothes with a tear shattered face and gave me a bag of presents, Goralski food as I had before in the Medina of Panjosackowje, but the extra fat version for a long journey. “Is that mutton fat or just old butter" I asked here “Kleine Geschenkchen von Mutti, Police say you very good man, pay bill, why don’t you stay and go out with me, you promise before, you promise before” .
I did not answer because I saw Mr. Salzburg’s bald head shining on the other side of the street sitting in a bus waiting to step out to approach another guy he has rescued from the evils of the Polish communication maybe and I jumped into the bus to Slovakia ran to the driver and shouted “Move on Move on, KURVA!!” and he switched on his KURVA Electronics Ltd. Device and pushed the pedal down as much as he could while I stumbled by the sudden impact of power and crashed into a seat somewhere in the back but was lulled in by the sweet sounds of the strongest Polish radiation devices so far experienced for the short busride to Slovakia. KURVA Electronics Ltd. knew what to do for me.
Copyright 2018 by Ronald C. Kaiser
