The scene: I’m cleaning up after Deutsche Telekom has installed an extra line to my flat (SDSL, in addition to the POTS & ISDN I already have. German cable ducts are not designed to incorporate three phone lines per flat - IOW, lots of plaster dust).
The doorbell rings, I hear someone say something like “pizza” over the notoriously bad intercom - I haven’t ordered a pizza, but WTF, I let the fellow in. Two very polite guys appear on my doorstep - the word apparently wasn’t “pizza”, it was “Polizei”. Yup, that’s German for “Police”. Let’s just say that I didn’t expect that.
Two gentlemen from the “Bundes Kriminal Amt” would like to compare my ugly mug to a snapshot from a surveillance camera, taken during a bank robbery. Somehow I didn’t expect that either.
I more or less keep my cool (you try to keep your palms dry with two foreign-language policemen in your home), ask them in, they take out said photo. It takes no time to realize that I couldn’t possibly make my nose protrude from a balaklava (sp ?) like that, we check calendars and sure, I have ironclad alibis for both dates, tensions go down considerably and jokes are being cracked (“So, what did you do with the money?”) when I ask - of curiousity - how come they asked me, of all people ? Answer: “We can’t disclose names, but an old schoolmate of yours thought he recognized you”. That, I certainly did not expect.
WHAT THE HELL?? A schoolmate, apparently living in Hamburg, decides that I’m a likely suspect in a robbery case ? I know of one (1) schoolmate in Hamburg, and I don’t think he’d consider me a likely bank robber. Somewhere out there, someone’s having quite the joke on me, and I have no way whatsoever of finding out who he is or how to get back at him. Not that I’d want to get in touch anyway, now.
So, to any of Spiny’s long lost friends reading this: If we were to reunite soon, I might be somewhat reserved and ask some very loaded questions.
And to the guy who thought (I’m using the verb “think” in its broadest possible definition) he recognized me: Up yours with 7-foot cast-iron fence. If you didn’t recognize the guy in the photo (and obviously you didn’t), you could’ve said so. Providing the police with the first name that spins through your bizarre little mind to prove that you’re a good citizen does not help anyone at all. But apparently I must’ve left quite the impression, eh ? And come to think of it, doesn’t it suck that they asked you before me ? Remain in no doubt that we’re not pals anymore, if ever we were.