Monday, April 19, 2010
New Nez
So this morning I stepped out of my condo and ran face first into a tiny little old lady who was jabbering excitedly in Polish. (I'm no linguist, but I know that it was Polish because she kept saying "Polish, no English" in between other phrases that I did not understand.) Now, this would ordinarily not surprise me on any first or third Monday of the month, because that's when our cleaning lady, who is Polish but whom we have affectionately termed Inez after the cleaning lady in Bottle Rocket, generally comes. But this was a different Inez than the usual, and she was gesticulating wildly at her key and trying to force her way past me into the house. In what upon further reflection seems to be a desperate plea to be robbed, I simply let her in.
Luckily for me, though, this Inez does not have sticky fingers. Instead, she apparently had sex on the brain. I got a call from my sister about an hour later informing me that Inez had tried to barge in on her while she was changing in her room. There was a lot of screaming of "no! no!" and "Polish, no English" that went on there. And then again there was key-based gesturing, as though Meg had engaged her in the world's most boring game of Guesstures.
In the end, though, I have to say that in a lot of ways she was an improvement. She didn't square off the chairs around my round dining table in that way that makes me crazy, and she actually knew how to make a bed in the way that a normal human person makes a bed. I mean, after all, what's a little peepshow among friends?
So this morning I stepped out of my condo and ran face first into a tiny little old lady who was jabbering excitedly in Polish. (I'm no linguist, but I know that it was Polish because she kept saying "Polish, no English" in between other phrases that I did not understand.) Now, this would ordinarily not surprise me on any first or third Monday of the month, because that's when our cleaning lady, who is Polish but whom we have affectionately termed Inez after the cleaning lady in Bottle Rocket, generally comes. But this was a different Inez than the usual, and she was gesticulating wildly at her key and trying to force her way past me into the house. In what upon further reflection seems to be a desperate plea to be robbed, I simply let her in.
Luckily for me, though, this Inez does not have sticky fingers. Instead, she apparently had sex on the brain. I got a call from my sister about an hour later informing me that Inez had tried to barge in on her while she was changing in her room. There was a lot of screaming of "no! no!" and "Polish, no English" that went on there. And then again there was key-based gesturing, as though Meg had engaged her in the world's most boring game of Guesstures.
In the end, though, I have to say that in a lot of ways she was an improvement. She didn't square off the chairs around my round dining table in that way that makes me crazy, and she actually knew how to make a bed in the way that a normal human person makes a bed. I mean, after all, what's a little peepshow among friends?
