HOW TO SURVIVE A POLISH POLICE SHOOTOUT

So, I'm heading back home to my apartment after visiting a friend. I get to my street and find that it's blocked off with police tape and three cops are standing there wearing full body gear, helmets and carrying uzis. I asked what was going on, but Polish cops don't talk. I did see the cop turn away an old lady and an angry businessman on his way to an appointment. Nobody was allowed to pass.

I decided to go around and try another way, but it seemed that every single entrance to my street was swarming with cops holding uzis, turning everyone away. They meant business and weren't telling anyone what was going on.

Somehow I told one cop that I had to quickly get home, so he let me through and I walked through the little park behind my house towards my door, noticing the hustle and bustle of lots of cops in the park behind my apartment, all carrying uzis and walking around.

I quickly ran upstairs, got some money, and then ran back down. Now, all the cops were hiding behind cars with their guns at the ready. Some old man was standing next to me at the doorway, and I asked him what's going on. He had no idea. I told him I had to get to work, but he said they likely wouldn't let me pass. I kept looking at one cop behind a car and made motions like I was about to start walking, but he kept waving me back. I ingored him and started to make my way out of the street, and he yelled at me "Hurry up, go now, go!"

I began walking faster when suddenly the sound of machine gun fire filled the air. My killer instinct kicked in and I dove behind a car next to one of the cops with a gun and covered my head. Another day in Poland was starting off right.

I looked to the cop next to me for guidance, but found none. He was busy readying himself for who knows what and he looked at me with no sympathy. Here was a row of tough Polish cops holding uzis decked out in helmets and full gear, with one Polish teacher in the middle holding a purse and wearing a professor's jacket.

Suddenly, a door opened right behind me. It was the back door to the bookstore which opened up on the other side of the street. A curious old lady had opened it up to see what all the noise was. This was my chance to get the hell out of there. I made to go towards the door, but the cop yelled at the old lady to close it and hide, which she promptly did. I was stuck.

Now, for most of the day, my decision making part of my brain was troubled with such questions as, "Do I have McDonalds today or do I eat pierogi?", or perhaps my real difficult decision, "Do I shit now before work, or wait until after?". Now suddenly, the decision at hand, with the panic button firmly depressed and the "Grip on Reality" meter hovering around zero, was: do I crawl on my belly through the dirt towards that door and try knocking and hope someone lets me in, or do I stay hidden behind the Fiat while well armed people shoot machine guns at each other. My previous big decision of the day, 'when do I shit?', was on the verge of being made for me.

I decided to stay put. I intermittently poked my head up and peered through the car windows to see what was happening, but saw nothing except cops hiding. I then heard another round of machine gun fire, followed by a huge explosion, which shook the buildings around me and set off every single car alarm in the neighbourhood. This scene was now very familiar to me: cops hiding behind cars, guns firing, bombs exploding and the sound of car alarms. I was the innocent bystander in a bad action film.

This nerd wasn't ready to die. I ducked back down and clutched my purse, my lifeblood. I took inventory, hoping something in my purse might be of help.

1. Chapstick - check
2. Notebook - check
3. Cell Phone - check
4. Polish-English dictionary - check
5. Sub machine gun - nope

No. It seemed I was shit out luck. Only the Polish-English dictionary was useful, and I couldn't find the phrase I was looking for, "When the fuck did my day turn into Polish 'Die Hard'?"

I poked my head out again and saw a car race around the corner, tires screeching, followed by another. More gun fire. I stayed down for a bit longer, purse in 'shield mode', until after a few minutes of silence, the cop told me to get out of there.

I bolted from the park and ran through a huge crowd of people who had gathered by the next street, wondering what all the noise was. Nobody seemed to have any answer. When I got to work and told the story, of course, nobody believed me.

Do you?

WORDS BY TOMASZ ROSZKOWSKI
PHOTOGRAPH BY TONY AUSTIN