The Polish Experience By Nicholas Westerby This ... - GetSab.Com

Chapter 23
I was minding my own business reading John Grisham’s ‘The Testament’ on a
bench outside the Palace of Culture when an old man came and sat beside me. It
puzzled me because there were lots of empty benches, maybe his legs got tired
exactly there though. I continued reading and after a few minutes he turned to
me. I said hello but I told him I didn’t really speak Polish. He produced a small
battered old chess set. It came out of a hand held zip up case and the pieces
were worn down, some of the pawns to just stubs. I smiled and explained that I
didn’t really play. He asked if I was a tourist and I said no. He asked if I was
English and I said yes.
“London, Covent Garden, Queen.” He muttered then smiled at me revealing his
metallic teeth. Or rather his teeth had large vertical oblong plates on them. It
was if Jaws from the Bond movies had been shrunk and wrinkled in the wash.
I gave in and helped him set up the pieces. I had played the computer a few
times so I might as well humour an old man. After two moves he produced a 20
note and placed it under the board.
Was he trying to hustle me?