Warsaw (Part IV)

"Do you live in Warsaw?" I asked the man sitting next to me.

"No - home is in the US. I got business interests in Warsaw, so I fly in often." 

"Your business holding up to the financial crisis?"

"Better than ever. The banks here are very strict about lending money, so Poland came out much better off compared to the other European countries." He noticed the barman and called out his order: "a pint of beer."

I did the same: "double-shot of Jameson - neat." The barman nodded to both of us and went to work. 

We sat in silence for a few minutes and watched music videos from the '80s on the flat screen monitors behind the barman. The music poured down into the bar from above. Cigarette smoke drifted across my eyes from the person I was talking to. He was short, had long hair and wore a sports jacket and jeans. A mutual acquaintance introduced us a few hours ago. Tiring from the joy and kitsch of the videos I turned to look around me. It was the end of the working-day and young professionals started pouring into the bar. The barman placed a tumbler with my drink in front of me.   .             

"What you doing tomorrow?" Asked the man with long hair without looking away from the flat-screen monitor in front of him.

"I'm leaving to Wroclaw"

"Yeah, that's right. You mentioned that." He replied and drank his beer.

I took a sip from my drink. "Why Poland?" I asked. "What brought you over to Warsaw?"

He turned to look at me. It took a few seconds for him to answer: "The cheap high-life," He said. "Where else can I find women and lead a life of luxury for a fraction of the price back home?" He chuckled and turned his attention back to the extravagant music videos. "Things are changing, though - life is becoming more expensive here. But back in the early nineties..." he shook his head. "F***. Everything was easy. There were so many opportunities to make money. I got on the money train late, though, 'cause I was having too much fun f*** around." He smiled nostalgically at a thought, took a long drag from his cigarette and blew out the smoke towards the screen. Looking at the people around him, his eyes narrowed on a waitress serving a table at the other end of the room.     

"That waitress..." He started pensively. "I wonder if..." The waitress turned from the table she served and headed to the kitchen. "Shit! That's her!" He looked at me in amazement. "Last time I saw her was in the nineties." His eyes lit up, "We travelled to Prague together. At our hotel I said: 'listen, we're going out tonight. If you don't pick up a guy and I don't pick up a girl then I'm sleeping with you.'"

"What'd she say?" I asked

"'Sure!'" He replied. "Each of us picked up someone that night and went back to our hotel. She went to her room and I went to mine - we f*** all night like crazy. The next day, we woke up together in the same bed!" 

The air around us became bluish and hazy, thick with smoke. We both stared at the flat-screen television and drank without saying another word. I finished first and slung my backpack on my shoulder. "Already leaving?" Asked the man with long hair.

"Yeah, I'm calling it an early night. Good talking with you." I extended my arm. "All the best." We shook hands briefly and bid each other farewell. 

Outside, the cool air and open sky were a welcome relief from the air in the bar that sat on my shoulders like a heavy lid. Cars, trams and buses owned the streets. Crowds walked the side-walk under the bright glare of neon-signs and light pouring out of shopping stores. Beneath my feet, covering the street in a second skin, were leaflets - open-invitations for men not to spend the night alone or, for a change, with someone else. I steered away from the main street and walked back to my hotel on side-streets and alleys. The sound of traffic echoed in the background and shadows appeared around me - strange and ominous shapes that grew and faded, that ate each other or kept their distance, that lashed out at me with something or waved suspiciously, as if enacting scenes from a feverish nightmare.