Today on the train home I was sitting - as I usually do - with a rucksack on my lap, immersed into a book. The carriage was quite full, I'd been lucky to catch a seat, and on a prolonged stop at a station even more people squeezed themselves inside. Suddenly the train driver made an announcement: "Owing to a signal failure this train will be delayed for a few minutes." Most of us grumbled and looked quite cross for this is considered a standard excuse for "we have no bloody idea what's going on". This time, though, the source was revealed very soon.
Shortly after the train driver had switched off the mike, cops entered the carriage, looking kind of nervous, on edge, obviously searching for someone. As they'd passed our seats it struck me - quite belatedly - that these cops were the ominous "signal failure", and, as my eyes followed them, I contemplated with an amused grin if they liked their new description. One of them turned around, saw me smirking, nudged his colleague and both came for me in a flash.
I'd always thought I'd react cooler if such a thing was to happen, but in fact I was quite intimidated; I guess weapons - though not drawn, just on display - have such an effect. "ID!" barked one of them. "Do you have your ID card with you?" "Yes, of course", I said and opened the rucksack, digging for the blasted card. Then something snapped inside me and I looked up again, feeling rebellious. "Why?" The cop was taken aback, his colleague frowned.
"Are you carrying a knife?" I was kind of confused now - and felt a tad guilty. Yes, fact is, I always carry a knife in my rucksack, a swiss knife (the one you can build a house with), a gift from a friend - and its attached toothpick has been very useful so far. Apparently I'd been silent too long, he made a threatening guesture, leaned into me and barked:
"Are you carrying a sword?!"
I was thoroughly baffled by then, and stared incredulously at him. "A sword." I repeated blankly. The first (muffled) giggles could be heard. "Yeah, we're looking for somebody armed with a sword! Now, are you carrying a sword?" Still dumbfounded I asked the obvious: "Where?" This, to my eyes quite logical argument, didn't reach him though. They searched me and my bag for a blasted sword - I still couldn't believe it. At that time I already tried very hard not to laugh. But when, out of the safety of the crowd that had gathered, an unruly citizen suggested to check the Sorting Hat instead, I simply cracked up. Cops, you gotta love 'em.
