This story was told to me by a Polish friend, Kasia.
“You know, Jimmy,” said Kasia, “I have a friend who is the unluckiest person in the world. He was so unlucky with everything that he touches.’
She continued:
“I remember the time when he decided to apply for a job in Germany. He applied and was granted an interview. But he had no money. So, he renovated his old car to sell it off, use the money to buy the plane ticket and have some money left to rent an apartment. If everything goes according to plan, his wife will join him in Germany.
He had the car renovated. It was very nice and clean, and he thought that it would be easy to sell it off. In communist Poland, there weren’t many cars. It was a luxury to have owned one.
A buyer called and wanted to see the car. They agreed to meet at a certain place. But just as my friend drove the car out of the garage, a truck hit it and tore the car in half. The car was beyond repair. He was shaken but unharmed.
The surprising thing was that he did not get mad at the truck driver, or even at God. He had always known he was born with no luck. His brother, however, was the opposite. Unlike the others, my friend learned to accept his fate.
My friends and I couldn’t accept his fate. How could such a terribly nice, harmless, compassionate guy ever be so unlucky? So, I gathered our friends in Germany and Poland, to help him out. In Poland, I collected money that went to buying the plane ticket, and the apartment in Germany. I called our friends in Germany and told them that one of them was to pick him at the airport, and the other was to prepare the apartment. My friends and I wanted to give the gods of fate a good fight. At least for now.
So far so good. My friend arrived at the airport where our friend met him. They both got in the car and drove to the apartment where our other friend was waiting. The car, however, encountered some minor problems, and what should take only 30 minutes going to the apartment, had taken them 3 hours.
While, in Poland, we waited nervously for the latest news. Did he make it alive? Did he get to the apartment? Did he get there in time for the job interview?
The next day, my unlucky friend left for the company. The traffic was terrible. They got stuck for more than 2 hours. The friend, who was driving, was nervous and cursing. I imagined my unlucky friend just sitting there, quiet, his eyes closed.
When they finally arrived, he took the elevator to the 11th floor, where he met with the manager.
The manager was stunned: “Didn’t you hear?” said the manager.
“Hear what?” asked my friend.
“The job was taken. I left a voicemail message.”
Disbelief. Anger. Resignation. That was how we all felt. But not my friend. He took it in stride.
The following day, he was back in Poland.”
Kasia turned her head towards me and said, with eyes that demanded your absolute, undivided attention:
“Jimmy, you’d think that if you knew you’re unlucky with things, you’d be angry, depressed and pessimistic, no?”
“Yet, my friend wasn’t all that. He took everything as it was. He never got mad or depressed. We felt bad for him. He was so nice. The nicest guy I have ever met. It’s so unfair.”’
“Are you still in touch with him?” I asked.
“Yes, of course. All his friends are still in touch with him, always looking out for him.”
Then her eyes let go of me. She kept quiet for a moment, as though she had stumbled upon a memory of a very, very important event that she could not, or didn’t want to share it with anyone else, not even with her husband.
“Um, Kasia?”
“Yes?”
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You know what?”
“What?”
“Your friend, he is really not that unlucky.”
She searched for answers in my eyes.
“He has friends like you. That makes him the luckiest person in the world.”
Her body now, turned completely focused on me, her eyes soft and endearing
Offers me a smile.
That said:
“Thank you, Jimmy. Thank you so much.”
