Like a weekend ago, I was at the bar in this one Czech-Polish restaurant on the city's far western border.
The waitress came up and said something to me in Polish, to which I responded in Polish, "I hardly speak Polish, I am not a Polishman," at which point she switched to English.
Later, the (older) (male) bartender came up to see if I'd been served and spoke to me in Polish again.
Neither was warm, though the woman was nice when I asked her to help with pronouncing the phrase "I harldy speak Polish, I am not a Polishman" right before I left, then ended by saying "thank you and good night" in Polish.
At a bar the previous week, a (young) (Russian) bartender had assumed I was Polish as well, and in the past practically monolingual Mexicans (to the point where I have to speak to them in Spanish!) have tried out their "hello, how are you?"-type phrases in Polish on me.
I had never realized how much I look Polish from that half of the family, because I usually dwell on my Hungarian cheekbones and hairline.
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