Jurek

Though sometimes culture and good manners make us believe otherwise, or at least it would be better if it were different, in reality, not all people deserve to be called human. Some are just bugs. Bald, short, stocky, with a belly, around forty, unkempt. Crooked teeth, foul odour, dressed sloppily, resembling a clown, and that disgusting, shiny bald head of his. Horrible stench. I remember he smelled of sweat and later like dead sardines every time he opened his mouth. Something like a Sicilian square in the morning, turning into a puddle of fisherman's waste. Jurek probably never even went to Sicily.

It only got worse. From the first lecture, he made a very bad impression on me. Though actually, it was a seminar because he wasn’t even a lecturer, just a psychology master's degree holder, and from the first day, he made it clear that to him, I wasn't human but a bug. And he was a bug to me. Jurek was a psychology master's degree holder, but in my opinion, he would have suited better as a patient in a psychiatric hospital. When I started studying, my grandfather warned me about master's degree holders. They were, as my grandfather said, the most wicked among the degenerate university staff. Jurek was certainly degenerate. Rash. Crazy. He couldn't conduct classes, was hopeless, broke the distance with students. Unprofessional remarks, even rude jibes, and he looked at me with a disgusting gaze from the beginning.

It was the first seminar, the first day of university, my first day at the university. I didn't know anyone. I saw the people from the group and realized it was better if it stayed that way. I took a seat next to Laura, with whom I would later seemingly become friends, but it was artificial, out of pragmatism and necessity, definitely from her side. Jurek had the habit of sitting on the tops of our desks. His behaviour didn’t suit me at all because he was too close, invading my space. He addressed us without respect, in a strange way, yelled. It was October, not very cold yet, but it soon got colder. We had classes in the morning, at eight. Jurek always opened the window regardless of the weather, yelled at us when we sat in our jackets, and we were cold. But that wasn't the worst. Jurek clearly liked young women, including me. He watched, moved closer when he targeted me as a victim, teased, complimented. He was disgusting. For a week, it was relatively normal, though his behaviour was not normal and definitely shouldn't be the norm. Unfortunately, I know such treatment of girls in schools, universities, and workplaces is very common. Unfortunately. The worst.

Everything was to change in just seven days. It was October 2023, and something was about to happen that would not only make it impossible for me to make friends with other students but also start a kind of witch hunt among lecturers and university staff. Yes, a witch hunt, especially from Jurek. This caused, psychologically speaking, a trigger. A trigger for hate, the temptation to crush that little bug, the temptation to persecute a Jew.

The rest of this article is only available to Paid Subscribers.

Want to read more?

Subscribe to ladyronit.com to keep reading this exclusive post.

Subscribe Now