Stab with your Mouth Closed

(exctract from my travel diary)

I'm in Poland right now, Krakow to be more specific, and it's cold. Not
"Excuse me waiter this soup is cold" cold. More "Dear God, please kill me
now so I don't have to endure any more of this icy hell" cold. I can't
see the footpath beneath the snow and so often I'll find myelf knee deep in
some invisible crevace. My glasses fog up everytime I walk indoors, so i look
like Mr Magoo for half an hour before I adjust to the warmth. I'm a
walking funniest home video.

I just wanted to set the scene for you before I tell the story.

A group of us from the Hostel went out the other night for a drink. It
was a Tuesday night so things were pretty quiet. While we were waiting
outside a bar to decide what our next move would be, a rather large Polish guy
deliberately swings his shoulder into one of my friends as he passes.

Everything that happened next happened very quickly.

This Poilish guy starts screaming at my friend. In Polish of course, so
we have no idea what he's so upset about. He's got a mouthful of food so
during the unintelligable tirade there's cabbage and pork and beans
literally flying out of his mouth all over his hapless target. The rest
of us kinda snap to and try to placate this lunatic, saying things like,
"He's really sorry, man" and "No harm done" and "Let us buy you a drink", that
sort of thing.

Next thing we know this guy has produced an enormous steak knife from his
jacket and is threatening us with it. One by one holding it to our
chests, yelling, spitting traditional poilish cuisine in our faces. Naturally, I
was really, really scared. Sure, we outnumbered this maniac six to one
but there's something about being in a foreign city - a city that doesn't
understand a word you say - that makes you a little more anxious than
usual.

All sorts of things are running through my head. Maybe if I faked an
epileptic fit, a seizure of some kind, he'd freak out and leave us alone.
Or maybe I could take this guy. I mean, why not? He's clearly an armed
psychopath with a thirst for blood, while I, on the other hand, have no
fighting experience whatsoever and am afraid of magpies - it's a fair
fight.

And then I thought maybe I'm jumping to conclusions. Perhaps he's not
threatening us at all. If I spoke Polish I'd discover that he was in fact
trying to be friendly. He could be saying:

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I bought my wife this steak knife for our
anniversary but when I tried to give it to her she said she was scared for
her life. Would one of you guys like it? There's nothing wrong with it.
See how sharp it feels against your chest? Only been used once - to kill
a human being. Any takers? Anyone?"

or

"Hey guys! How much would you expect to pay for a steak knife like this?
50 euro? 40 Euro? Wrong! It's only 24.95 and it can cut through human
flesh like butter. Plus, order now and I'll throw in this pre-chewed
cabbage ABSOLUTELY FREE."

So when he ran out of energy and food in his mouth - he left. That's it.
End of stroy. No one got hurt. Everthing's fine now.

But that's just the true version. Here's the version I'll tell to my
kids:

...So he took out a knife and held it to my chest. In two swift moves I'd
disarmed him and secured him in a hold I call "The Pacifier".

"Please, Josh. Please, no more!" he begged.

"How did you know my name?" I asked.

He remained silent.

"Who sent you?" I tightened my grip.

"Never!"

"WHO SENT YOU?"

"Rot in hell, pig."

He spat the remains of a Polish dumpling in my face.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you to talk with you mouth full?" I said,
really, really coolly, and possibly in an American accent.

Then I finished him quickly and threw his body into the river. Then a
Polish girl band approached me and asked me if I could help them find
their clothes. to be continued...

What? It's my story and I can do what I want.