"No cóż," powiedziała, "poznajmy się porządnie. Opowiedz nam o sobie."

Wyjaśniłem, że pracuję w logistyce i jestem tam od kilku lat.

"Czy twoje dochody są stabilne?" zapytała od razu. "Oficjalny kontrakt? Czy możesz to udowodnić?"

Caught off guard, I answered politely that my income was official and sufficient.

Daniel quietly served the food, acting as if nothing unusual was happening.

“Do you own property,” she continued, “or did you just move in here?”

I told her I owned an apartment and was currently renting it out.

“I see,” she said coolly. “We don’t want surprises. Some women start independent and end up depending on a man.”

My discomfort grew, but I hoped the interrogation would end. It didn’t.

She kept asking—about my past relationships, my parents, health issues in the family, my views on alcohol, debt, children. I answered briefly, holding myself together. Daniel said nothing, eyes fixed on his plate.

Then, after about thirty minutes, she said something that made everything clear.

“So, do you have children?”