“Hey pretty lady, want some of my homemade Polish kielbasa?” asked Marcin Gortat, approaching a randomly-selected brunette woman at the bar.
“Ew, no, jerk,” responded the woman, making a disgusted face. As Marcin turned away, disappointed but not deterred from his mission, she muttered, “Men are such pigs.”
There was another woman a few seats away who looked like she might be receptive to Marcin’s offerings. He again walked up to her with no introduction and said with a smirk, “A fine young lady like yourself should not have to go through life without tasting some delicious Polish sausage.”
“Um, no thanks,” replied the woman, shielding her face with her long hair. Marcin wanted to press the issue, but she had already gone back into a discussion with her friends, so he moved on.
At a booth near the window there was a couple enjoying a basket of greasy french fries. Ignoring the tough-looking boyfriend, Marcin sauntered up to the table. “Hey cute girl. I saw your nice face from across the room and thought that you might want to receive an extra-large serving of my Polish kielbasa.”
“You’re gonna regret talking to my girl that way,” the boyfriend snarled, standing up aggressively.
“Calm down, man,” Marcin responded coolly. “I just figured that since you aren’t giving her what she needs, I would step in and offer some of my Polish delicacies.”
The man rolled up his sleeves, clearly getting ready to fight. “Step off, bro. I’m warning you.”
“There’s no way you satisfy her with your wimpy, flavorless American sausage,” Marcin continued. He had more to say, but he was abruptly charged by the enraged boyfriend.
Using his deceptive speed to run quickly out of the establishment, Marcin stood sadly on the sidewalk. Fishing out links of handmade Polish sausages from his pockets, he lamented, “why does nobody want Marcin’s tasty sausage?”