Polish Wisdom.

A few weeks ago I was outside at this downtown patio bar overlooking the park.

After I bought a round of martinis for some purple-t-shirted NOW delegates from red states in the South and Southwest – the national convention was in town! – the (thin) (foreign) (blond) (mid-30s) (white) waitress came up to me to clear up the bill for the NOW women.

After I edged around the question of what nationality she was, the waitress introduced herself as “Barbara,” and said she was Polish.

I then told her that not only was I half Polish, but also that I had received a $1,000 scholarship from a foundation that gives money to Polish-Americans.

“Good!”, she was like, very matter-of-factly.  “It’s nice, being Polish is useful for once.”