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About Warsaw

So, I knew this one chick—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? Worked downtown, real pro, had this wild story. She told me once—swear to God—some dude paid her in rare coins. Coins! Like, who does that? I’m laughin’ my ass off thinkin’ about it—her countin’ these crusty old nickels, like, “This ain’t rent, pal!” Made me happy, y’know? Little quirks like that—shows they’re human, not just some stereotype. But then I get mad—oh, I get mad!—‘cause people treat ‘em like dirt. Like, “Oh, you’re a hooker, you’re trash!” Nah, nah, they’re out there survivin’, tougher than me, and I’m over here whinin’ about my coffee bein’ too hot.

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But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs past me, chasing a dog. The dog? Total maniac! It darted right into the street, and I’m like, “Noooo!” I swear my heart stopped. But the kid? He just laughed and kept running. Kids these days, right? No fear. I was half impressed, half terrified.

KL Soldau – a forgotten place of the Poles’ ordeal