Actually, it is a coat, but fur sounds better in the title. Before Women's Day, I propose a little tongue-in-cheek story about women in times of crisis.
Two friends went to a shopping center. One of them planned to buy herself sexy boots; the other was only meant to help her choose. But, as Woody Allen says: “If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans for the future.” And that day, I am sure, God laughed himself silly.
The women entered the shopping paradise firmly determined to reach the shoe store. The winter sale promised discounts of several dozen percent. They passed all kinds of boutiques when suddenly, on their path, they encountered one that was exceptionally expensive and exceptionally exclusive. The kind where we cannot afford anything and do not intend to enter, except perhaps just to look around. For a 70 percent discount in this store meant that prices stopped at two thousand zlotys apiece.
Our protagonist—the coat—hung innocently on a hanger, barely attracting attention. Yet its siren song reached the ears of the friend who was only accompanying the shopper. It was sweet and seductive, telling of a better world with the advertising scenery of glamour and shine, in which its owner was slimmer, taller, and had a model’s face as soon as she put it on. The melody also included a promise of a strong male arm and a handsome face with eyes misted by love. An ideal lover serving champagne and seductively biting into a plump, red strawberry with his white teeth.
The girl drifted toward the coat. Behind her stood a saleswoman who appeared from nowhere, like in the film “The Grudge,” horrifyingly eager to help.
– Would you like to try it on?—she asked, while beneath her smiling mask there must have been hiding the face of the Euro-Devil who persuaded Kazimierz Marcinkiewicz to cheat on his wife.
The coat fit perfectly. And for reasons unknown, the person who had not intended to buy anything, certainly not anything that still cost four figures after the discount, said:
– But I could only take this coat on installments.
And then, as the friend who had come for sexy boots said, life began to move a little more slowly.
The professional saleswoman not only agreed to split the price into convenient installments, but also shaved several dozen zlotys off the still astronomical price. The coat pretended not to be interested in all the commotion, while its future happy owner began carrying out complicated mathematical calculations in her head. She added up the monthly commitments for the house, bills, food, necessities, and installments on other loans. She began to feel a little too hot in the coat. So she decided to leave the boutique for a moment to consult with and think things over with her friend. The shoe store seemed like the perfect place for that.
When they entered, the girl who had come to the shopping center to buy shoes chose the sexiest model and put it on. Her friend was in the middle of calculating the installments on all the loans and subtracting them from her salary, while engaging in metaphysical reflections on the possibility and meaning of surviving on such absurdly low earnings.
The tall boot with its sharp stiletto heel looked beautiful. The woman began fastening the zipper, but when she pulled it halfway up, the tab came off in her hand. Her leg was trapped, and the same panicked thought appeared in both friends’ eyes: now they would have to buy them.
God was just crying with laughter in front of the television as he watched the scene and asked St. Peter whether he had perhaps missed the fact that those clever little humans, besides intelligent creams and computers, had also invented thinking shoes that release the zipper tab when the shoe is put on its potential owner’s foot.
– The Americans could have invented something like that. A marketing trick. Don’t you think?—God asked. St. Peter felt slightly awkward, as he always did when he had to tell the Almighty that something was not true. He suggested changing the channel to watch the conflict in Iraq, Palestine, or Obama’s actions, on which somewhat more depended than on two women from Bolesławiec buying shoes… or a coat. In the end, what they bought would not depend on God’s servant. But God replied that he was still the one in charge of the remote and would watch whatever he wanted.
The saleswoman hurried to the aid of the customer trapped in the shoe and, using a tool whose name never stays in women’s heads, freed the unfortunate woman. Once they had regained their freedom, both women quickly left the store. And they returned to the coat boutique.
And there, everything went smoothly. The loan was granted. The coat was packed. Both women returned home. God switched the channel to Fakty TVN because he felt like having more entertainment.
– Tell us—we asked the coat’s owner, after hearing her story in a gathering of women—what prompted you most to make this purchase?
– You know—she sighed. “This coat has a collar made of real mink; I could never afford such luxury.”
She fell silent for a moment and added sheepishly:
– To me, it is not a coat; to me, it is fur.
Grażyna Hanaf