Count Your Zlotys

Every morning on my way to work, I am greeted for a few seconds by this billboard on Tahlia Street:

And every single time, it brings a looney smile to my face. Like, once this collection is over and they replace that billboard, I'll be back to my old cranky, don't-fuck-with-me face at 8am. 

Some things go through my mind during those few minutes after I've glimpsed Adrien Brody's mug.

"Does anyone else on Tahlia Street appreciate Adrien Brody?"

"What's going on behind those eyebrows, yo?"

"Maybe I should deck myself in Lacoste. Maybe then the chances of me meeting Adrien Brody and him being completely charmed by my explosive personality will soar to the high heavens. Like, we will probably meet at some swanky dinner party where his glam circle of Hollywood socialites twitter around with fake smiles and conversations, and he stands at a corner being all quiet with his awkward face and questioning eyebrows because he feels like he doesn't belong, and then he sees me across the room and the elevator music fades out and there's a white light behind me that highlights the fading, cheap red dye on my hair as I laugh heartily and in slow motion, throwing my head back, ha ha ha I go, and he thinks THERE SHE IS, I MUST POUNCE."

"Marry me."

And so on and so forth.

Since I first saw this picture, I've thought of why I'm so drawn to Adrien Brody. I wouldn't put him in the same brain compartment as other actors I've considered good-looking (Josh Lucas, Channing Tatum, Jensen Ackles, Michael Ealy, etc.) nor would I spend hours on the internet stalking him. I know next to nothing about him, in fact. 

But I love Adrien Brody because really, in the back of my mind, he reminds me of good times. 

I first saw him in The Pianist, the last movie I watched with my brothers when we were living cramped together in one apartment back during my uni years. We were all broke students, constantly bickering about whose turn it is to call our parents for money, fighting over bathrooms, chores, coffee and bills as "adults". We would briefly call a truce when watching a movie we all found brilliant, which is rare, and this was one of those movies. 

I remember we were so quiet watching it in our little living room, horrified by it. There were so many political arguments afterwards, as was tradition, and then there were also so many memes born that day.

The Counting of Zlotys.

One scene in the movie shows Brody's character's family counting their last money, talking about how they could feed themselves with only 2 Zlotys. 

That was us. It was funny to us then, we laughed at how broke we were, how inappropriate our laughter was. To this day, we refer to any and all money as Zlotys. 

Maybe my memories are just being nice, but I sometimes miss my brothers, and when I do, I always remember how we were back then, how embarrassingly stupid and irresponsible we were. My last few memories with my brothers, all of us in one place. It might not ever happen again; there's just way too many of us.  

I find my siblings everywhere. Even on billboards on Tahlia Street.

Also, Adrien Brody is totally Neil Gaiman's younger (?) brother. And I love Neil Gaiman because how can I not?