"Whazzat mean?" I said to my new Polish exchange student.
"It's what girls say in Poland when boys spill sticky drinks down their shirts."
I had been saying sorry but in the haze of smoke and the boom boom of the big disco speakers I don't think she really cared. So what could I expect but that pretty soon she'd ask me to take her home. But you know what? She surprised me. She went to the ladies' room and did something with the mess and when she came out she had on a completely different outfit!
"Wow, you look great but where did you get those clothes?"
Over the din of the disco it probably sounded like 'I know that you ate but I want to pet your toes' but she answered like she got the question.
"I'm not Ania, I'm Gosia, my sister's still in there crying her eyes out because you're a clumsy excuse for a man and she wants to find another host at the University."
What I understood her to say was something those Roman emperors of the 4th century with their impressive catalogues of sexual perversions would have smiled at in naked approval, at last, I imagined them saying, something truly obscene!
Myself, with my conservative upbringing simply vomited all over Ania's top.
Now there were two beautiful girls in the toilet mad at me and I had no one to take home.
"Qrcze," I said to myself, "I think I've got it."