Picture thief

Hurrying back to school down Grodzka in the grey afternoon chill, I was approached from the right by a shaven-headed young man in a green military jacket. Now, having lived near two major tram stops in Kraków, I've become adept at side-stepping those poor souls who have to stand in the rain every day handing out ulotki. However, this particular character was not in fact a slave to the publicity machine: rather, he was handing out small cards displaying pictures of the late Pope John Paul II.

Since it would have been rude to say no to The Pope, I took the card and hurried on before crew-cut guy had time to start his spiel.
Contrary to my expectations, my picture-purveying friend began to hurry after me, aggressively pushing another card towards me and muttering something that I couldn't quite catch.

It is my custom, when pursued by strange men in the street, to run.

(this may be why I don't have a boyfriend)

Crew-cut guy shouted in outrage and began to chase after me; I dashed across the street, picking up the pace, but he cornered me on the pavement beyond St Peter and St Pauls' church. By this time a few particles of reason had filtered through the fight or flight hormones, and I realised why the gentleman was pursuing me with such indignation.

The little prayer cards were actually for sale, and I had just run off with his merchandise.

Longing only to get away from the situation and the aggression of the picture seller, I flung the card back at him, accompanied by some distinctly unladylike phraseology, and fled the rest of the way back to the school (mercifully on a slight downhill slope).

Now you know.

I steal pictures of the Pope from Polish catholics.