You will meet the lady

 

I dedicate this story to all those who, instead of finishing important papers—master's, bachelor's, or term papers—write something completely different and do anything, no matter how stupid and pointless, just to avoid doing what needs to be done.

"You'll meet you."

I stared blankly at my computer screen. From time to time, I glanced at the notes lying next to me. This had been occupying me for several hours, but despite that, my work hadn't gotten even a full sentence longer. My sister wasn't helping me concentrate either, as she paced around the apartment with her cell phone to her ear, alternately laughing and shouting into the phone. She was being so loud on purpose, wanting to let me know she needed a computer too. She was standing in the doorway, finishing another call. I gave her a look, so she could read "leave me alone" in my eyes. She must have noticed, because she raised her voice:

"Instead of yelling at me, you should get out of the house and find someone new." The world is full of great guys...

"You're asking me where to find them? I don't have to, I have...

" "Well, I don't know, put up a dating ad or something.

" "Like the internet...

" "So if you're tired of guys, find yourself a girl and stop bothering me! "

She hung up the phone and added,

"Idiot." Because she used the feminine gender, I guessed she wasn't referring to me this time.

"Who?

" "Milka, my friend.

" "Oh, the one I don't know and you'll never introduce me to because she's nice, pretty, and sensitive, and I'm a sex maniac...

" "Exactly. Her boyfriend dumped her and..."

I wasn't interested in some Milka's romantic problems. But it gave me a devilish idea how to improve my mood, take a break from my miserable job, and just to spite Aśka, stay at the computer, even if it's late at night.

It's stupid, I admit, and I suspect not very original, but I decided to sign up for the dating site "Pani pozna panią" (You'll Meet a Lady). Maybe I can convert a lesbian? It's always fun.

NICK. Hmm... something that would inspire confidence, no "Horny" or "Moist"—perverts will fall for that... I typed in "Lost"... It seemed cute.

AGE. I don't have to lie here: 24.

EYES, HAIR, ... MEASUREMENTS... Well, I won't say I'm six foot tall...

PROVINCE. EMAIL. EDUCATION (SELECT FROM THE LIST)

INTERESTS. Sports, motoring... Wait, no. You can leave sports aside, aerobics is also a sport... Art, after all, if all goes well, I'll have a master's degree in art history in a few weeks. You have to write something relatively truthful so you don't make a fool of yourself later...

FAVORITE MOVIE, BOOK... What do girls read? Nowadays, everyone seems to be reading Tolkien, and even Bridget Jones... No, lesbians, surely not?...

SAVE...

I immediately switched to the chat, but I was a bit disappointed. Well, I wasn't expecting hard porn, but some spicy conversation, sure...

HELLO, I'M NEW :-) I wrote as a test, but no one paid any attention to me.

MY NAME IS ANIA AND I'M LOOKING FOR A FRIEND. I didn't give up, but still no response. I'M LOST BECAUSE I RECENTLY DISCOVERED THAT I LIKE WOMEN. WILL ANYONE TALK?

It took quite a while, but suddenly I read a reply from a certain KaMa on the screen:

HI ANIA, I'D LIKE TO TALK TO YOU, I'M NEW TOO. HOW OLD ARE YOU? I'M 23, WHERE EXACTLY ARE YOU FROM?

KaMa's name was Kamila. She read in my profile that we were from the same region, and now it turned out we were even from the same city. She was also inexperienced and wrote for the first time today. She was also interested in art, even studying at the Academy of Fine Arts for a year. I played it coy, but she was very direct. We quickly moved from the open forum to a private "room."

KaMa confessed that she had recently broken up with someone and was looking for friendship, not a relationship. I replied that I wasn't ready for a serious relationship either, which was true. Then we talked about that unfortunate sport; it turned out she supported Legia, but I decided to forgive her; after all, we weren't getting married. That evening (in the meantime, my sister had lost her patience and left the house), we moved on to more serious topics. A little about politics, then about film, about our favorite dishes. She gave me a recipe for "a great salad, a bit high in calories, but you can use yogurt instead of mayonnaise." About literature: "I'm reading Hrabal's stories right now, the language is amazing, I wish I knew Czech and could read it in the original." About vacations: "What I'd love most in the world is to go to Italy. Rome, Naples, Venice. Have you been to Italy? Where are you going?" I boasted to her that I'd been, that I'd seen the works of Renaissance masters, the Sistine Chapel. She was very envious of me, and we talked about everything. I had a great conversation with her; I didn't think it was possible to do that with a girl... Although, truth be told, I've never tried. In any case, I'd completely forgotten why I was doing it.

Kamila reminded me. The next day, a lovely email was waiting for me in my inbox: "Dear Ania. Last night was very nice. I'm glad we could talk so honestly, and we didn't get into sex. I was a little worried it would end this way, and I don't feel like it at all. It turns out we have a lot in common. Will you be on the chat tonight? I'll check in around seven, so please come along. We've only known each other for one evening, and I think we're already friends!" Honestly, really! I tried to be honest, because lies have short legs, but I didn't tell the truth about the essential issue, sex. For a moment, it crossed my mind that she might too... But no. She was too feminine. Sex, well, that's what I wanted. But she didn't, too bad, so we have to end it...

I wanted to write to her right away, but it wasn't appropriate. When she appeared on the chat, she wouldn't let me get a word in. Hey, listen, there are Rembrandt prints at City Hall. I thought we could go together, what do you think? Of course I wanted to agree. Of course I couldn't. Of course I tried to get out of it. Of course I agreed, we arranged to meet the day after tomorrow at the Market Square, near the pillory. She was supposed to have a yellow bag. It wasn't until five and a half hours later, after an even more pleasant conversation than yesterday, when I turned off the computer and started brushing my teeth before bed, that I realized I couldn't meet her anymore, even for the trivial reason that I'm a guy...

It hadn't bothered me until now. That means I'm a man. I came to the conclusion that it didn't have to matter this time either. I decided I'd go to the market square and examine the girl with the yellow bag from head to toe. I wouldn't even have to hide or disguise myself. It was a comfortable situation; if she was ugly, at least I could leave her alone with a clear conscience, and if she was pretty, I'd come up with something. True, in the latter case, the plan was half-baked, you could say—not very specific at all, but I had all day to figure it out.

I found myself in the pillory half an hour before our scheduled meeting, trying to find a strategic position. The yellow bag, embroidered with black and brown beads, appeared with its owner twenty minutes later. I didn't like it very much, but I liked the owner very much. She was quite tall, slender, blonde, maybe not the prettiest, but definitely my type. She began to look anxiously around for the brunette in the red jacket, just like I briefly described myself as Ania. She alternately looked at the people around her and glanced impatiently at her watch. I decided to approach her.

"Hi, you're Kamila, right?

" "Yeah..." she replied instinctively, and I noticed she immediately regretted it. I guess I didn't make an impression.

"I'm Ania's brother."

She sighed.

"Nothing came up, she didn't even have a way to notify you, so she sent me. I'm Marcin.

" "Oh. That's a shame. Thanks for the trouble."

"You were supposed to go to see Rembrandt, right?

" "Yeah. Never mind, tell Ania I went alone, and then I'll tell her.

" "I love Rembrandt. I wrote a term paper about him in my sophomore year. I really wanted to see that exhibition too.

" "What are you studying?

" "Art history.

" "Like your sister?

" "Well... yeah... You could say it runs in the family. We're twins...

" "Oh.

" "So if you don't mind, we could go together.

" "Well, I don't know.

" "I don't bite. And I don't impose on girls who are interested in my sister.

" "Okay, then, since you're an expert, you can be my guide."

When we left the museum, I invited Kamila for ice cream. To my surprise, she agreed immediately. With a smile. A very pretty smile. Apparently, my charm even worked on lesbians. So I tried to spread it. It made my job easier, since I already knew a lot about her. She might have been a little surprised that I wasn't asking the usual first-time questions. But she quickly relaxed. She was as open as she was in the chat. As if she knew she didn't have to act mysterious to be interesting. She had a lot to say. I listened to her with pleasure, not just because of her warm, melodic voice. And she listened to me. Truly, intently, without feigned curiosity. If I believed in love, I could fall in love. With that voice, with those eyes (a little gold, a little brown).

Then we argued a bit about who should pay. Later, she agreed to let me walk her to the tram. She kissed me on the cheek as we said goodbye, quite naturally.

That evening, I had to apologize to her—or rather, Ania had to explain why she hadn't come. BUT MARCIN TOLD ME THAT YOU HAD A GOOD TIME AND THAT YOU WERE VERY COOL.

"YOUR BROTHER IS VERY NICE TOO," she replied, "BUT OF COURSE I'D PREFER TO SEE YOU."

When I spoke with Kamila, whether in a chat or at a café, I had absolutely no idea that I was dealing with the first girl in the history of my romantic conquests with whom I had absolutely no chance. Unfortunately, she herself made that clear to me sooner or later.

Ania had arranged to go for a walk with Kamila at the zoo again. As she was leaving the house, she tripped on the stairs, twisted her ankle, and I had to take her to the emergency room. There was a terrible queue at the hospital, so she sent me again to let Kamila know she couldn't make it and was very sorry, and what a bummer. We spent a wonderful afternoon together, petting camels' knotted necks, feeding goats in the playroom with our fingers, scaring fish by knocking on the aquarium glass, and taking pictures of each other with orangutans on my cell phone. She gave me her number to pass on to my sister. If anything came up again, she could call so I wouldn't have to be her messenger. I took the hint.

I couldn't—or rather, Ania couldn't—deceive her any longer. She should have ended the relationship immediately, but she didn't want to, or finally shown up on the date, disappointed her, and convinced her to go with her brother. But a small detail, the fact that she didn't exist, prevented her from doing so. I always struggled with small details; somehow, I didn't pay them the attention they deserved. Most often, I ignored them. It never ended well. For example, during a math test, I'd miss a minus sign, a comma, or a parenthesis, and that was it... In any case, that little detail wouldn't let me forget it. I rejected the idea of ​​dressing up as a woman outright; only in American comedies would anyone fall for that. I decided to involve my sister. I had no choice. I told her everything. At first, she laughed at me, questioning my sanity and IQ in a crude way. But after a whole day of listening to my pleas, she began to soften. Finally, when I showed her our photos from the zoo and convinced her that Kamila was the one on the left, with the monkey on the right, she was willing to agree, provided I didn't say a word to her boyfriend, who's been jealous of all his guy friends lately anyway, and all that's missing is for him to start criticizing her about girls. And if she gets a written promise that I'll wash the dishes and clean the bathroom for the next six months.

"So?" I asked when she returned. "

What about what? I broke up with her, as you requested; it was even easier than I thought.

" "Was she very disappointed?

" "She was a bit, I think she liked me.

" "What about me?" All that was missing was my own sister stealing the girl from under my nose.

"I asked, as you asked, and she expressed, though without much enthusiasm, a desire to maintain a relationship with you... as friends. Apparently, you're fun to talk to. I somehow didn't notice...

" "Sister, you're great."

"I know. But if I were you, I'd give up." Don't get your hopes up. She's clearly... you know... woman-oriented.

- No chance?

- Maybe... insofar as you're similar to me.

- So why do you think she wants to keep seeing me?

"Are you asking me? I don't know. Although a friend told me that in certain circles it's fashionable to have a gay friend, you know, a guy who understands women, knows about clothes, and so on... Maybe it's fashionable for them to be friends with straight people? It's none of my business.

" "Thanks anyway. And how did you like her?

" "Quite nice. But not my type..." that's for sure. She wasn't a six-foot-six-foot-six bruiser with steroid stretch marks like hers...

Kamila was indeed ostentatiously keeping her distance from me. At least at first. We still got along great, and interestingly, we never ran out of topics to talk about. But even though I wasn't a sex maniac, as Aśka claimed, abstinence wasn't exactly helping my physical well-being either. Abstinence... I couldn't even kiss her! And I admit, I was liking her more and more. Kamila emphasized her sexual orientation at every turn, checking out girls. She had good taste, by the way, and I was checking out the same ones. Finally, I made a manly decision: take it or leave it, I need to know where I stand.

"We need to have a serious talk," I told her in the solemn tone of an undertaker when we met for a beer. She responded with that disarming smile. "I want to tell you something... Something very important... For me... Please don't interrupt me until I finish..."

It wasn't easy for me as I looked into her eyes. "I really like you... No, wait, let me finish. I like you, I can't help it, I think I've even fallen in love with you... I know I don't have anything with you... I don't expect anything, I don't want anything, I just had to tell you finally, just so you know, and if you don't want to see me anymore, I'll understand..."

She spoke after a very, very long moment.

"Are you finished?

" "I think so."

"Marcin, I can't help the fact that I'm... you know... a lesbian. And the fact that you like me... I can't help it either. It's not my fault... I appreciate your honesty...

" "Wait... I should confess something else to you." I don't know what possessed me. Instead of keeping quiet, keeping my mouth shut after already making a complete fool of myself with this, God forbid, confession, I told her everything, from beginning to end: that I was Ania, that this girl was indeed my sister, but her name was Aśka and she wasn't chatting with her, but with me..." She stood up. Abruptly, with unmasked fury, pushing back the metal chair loudly. But she didn't leave without a word. As she said goodbye, she said,

"I don't want to see you again," and it didn't sound pathetic at all.

I can't say that in those difficult days that followed—silent calls, missed messages, closed doors—my sister was my support. But she tried. I mean, she stayed out of my way. She didn't even keep her promise to do the dishes. I had peace and quiet, and I could wallow in self-pity as much as I wanted and finish my work. Every silver lining came. But after a week, the quarantine ended. It turned out that Aśka had found a way to make me forget about Kamila.

"I invited Milka over tomorrow.

" "Milka? Oh, the one I don't know and won't get to know?

" "Exactly." Actually... I thought to myself, why not?

" "Why not what?

" "Why not introduce you two? You'd be perfect for each other.

" "But she's kind and sensitive, and I'm the kind of person who won't let anyone get away with...

" "Lately, it's hard for me to admit it, but you've changed a lot.

" "I'm glad you think so, but give it a rest.

" "What?

" "Matchmaking." You can forget about it, I already have someone.

"I remind you that your girlfriend a- is a lesbian and b- isn't talking to you. Not exactly a promising relationship. But if that doesn't bother you... Milka will be here around three. I'm not trying to set anyone up, she's my friend and I wish her the best. You can leave if you want.

I didn't leave because, after some thought, I decided I'd finally like to see this Milka thing. And I must admit, the sight of her took my breath away.

"Marcin, my brother—Kamila, Milka to her friends. Oh, sorry, you two already know each other..."

They must have had a good laugh. I was curious if my little sister had come up with this brilliant plan the moment she saw her picture. Of course, she recognized her immediately. She went on the whole date, they laughed at me for all the times, and decided I deserved a lesson.

At that point, we were even. I'm a disgusting cheater, Kamilka-Milka a perfidious liar. Sure, it took me a while to convince her that we were a perfect match. It also took me quite a while to prove that I was being exceptionally honest that day in the beer garden. Overall, we had a lot to explain to each other. But we always had a good time chatting.