I would be careful of that advice, too. Midas is telling you what you probably want to hear, but if you listen to it, the lesson will be lost:
Obviously, because I have nothing better to do than tell him wrong.
I'm telling the gent how I see things. Now, sure, some of you ( being Polish ) might not like a few bits of what I said, still please don't discredit my whole advice.
After we cross out the few odd assumptions ( like the one about confused being supposedly unable to tell the difference between a date and another social event ) the bottom line here seems to be, that the standards for dating behaviour for young, middle-class women in Poland and the UK differ.
I know some foreign guys who are perfectly aware of it and treat their polish females with that knowledge in mind. Confused just isn't one of them ( yet ).
Now some of you might again get pissed off and whatnot, but back in the 80's when I had a business in Poland ( already mentioned it in this thread ) I actually had a situation akin to what happened to Confused.
Granted, the whole thing went down in Warsaw almost 30 years ago, so times were very different ( foreign guys with foreign currency were really all the rage with Polish girls these days regardless of how they looked or how old they were ), but still there were a few common elements.
That story is about a time when a certain Polish girl fresh out of the University of Warsaw really decided to dig her claws into me.
To make the long story short - I wasn't the least interested, despite her being very attractive and intelligent to boot. Partially due to some of the stuff that had to do with how the Polish political police operated back then and partially because this particular female had my spidey sense all tingling and not in a good way. So I kept brushing her off and even once bluntly told her I wasn't interested.
Of course ( which I know now and didn't know then ) this had exactly the opposite effect. She began pursuing me vigilantly and after she "accidentally" ran into me for the fourth or fifth time in front of the apartment block where I rented a flat ( winter time, office hours on top of it ) I knew I had a problem on my hands. I actually thought about changing my flat ( figured it wouldn't work ) or pretending to be gay ( she knew I wasn't so it wouldn't work either ), but then decided to tackle the problem head on. After all, what the hell, we're all human and all.
So we went to a venue of her choosing and of course it was a nightmare. She treated me like a meal ticket, made advances that were sometimes comical and after a few drinks even had the nerve to ask me about the state of my finances and amount of personal property ( how rich are you,
in dollars? lol ). Comedy central, I'm telling you guys, although after that last set of questions I wasn't really smiling. To be perfectly honest - I became much colder and was actually considering leaving under the pretense of going to the bathroom. But that wouldn't be particularly gentelmanlike of me.
So I did what all brave men do in such dire times - I invited the only lad I knew at this place to our table. He was Swedish and I shared a drink with him once, that was how deep our relationship went. I figured, correctly, that my lovely Polish "date" would take notice of this robust Scandinavian fellow and allow me to slip away.
Indeed I was correct - she first attempted to play one of us off against the other, which was really funny, since her English wasn't that good. After about 10 minutes it was rather clear that the Swedish dude was responding and I was not. So she made a show of how great a guy he was ( again - funny due to broken English ) and started focusing her attention completely on him. Having achieved the desired result I got up, wished them good night, paid the waiter, picked up my coat and grabbed a taxi. I was confident that I'd never see her in my life again, having so gracefully dumped her off on another fella ( a foreigner, on top of all things ). Of course I never tried to contact her and considered the case closed.
Exactly four months and a half later she again "accidentally" ran into me in front of my apartment block ( I managed to go to the UK and return in the meantime ). Despite me telling her I was in a hurry she really needed to talk. Long story short:
- Swedish guy went back to Stockholm,
- She didn't understand why I never contacted her or asked her out again after our "date". What the hell was wrong with me???
- Despite being severly mad at me for not contacting her, she made sure she was still available and said I could quell her anger by giving her roses and taking her to dinner.
To the dismay of my then-landlord I moved out to another flat a week later :-)
So, to sum up, I know what the hell I'm talking about when I'm handing out advice here.
