The Polish Embassy were having a party on their National Day of rejoicing and hurriedly had to hire a pianist to play some suitable music - stuff by Chopin, with maybe a nostalgic piece by Paderewski just for the old folk in memory of days gone by.
When the pianist, in tails and white tie, sat down at the piano, he gave them everything from St Louis Blues to The Young Ones. But no Warsaw Concerto.
When they ask him why, he said: "That's the way my musical cookies crumble."
In deep anger, the Poles threw their hired performer out onto the street.
He hit the pavement screaming and cursing. A passer-by picked him up and asked him why he was so incensed and so abusive at leaving the Embassy on his backside. He replied: "Forgive me - but forty square Poles do make one rude."
[Cassandra, 14 December 1962]
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