Please, madam. This shit is delicate…

I and a male German friend-let’s call him Klaus- had a lunch appointment in a hotel in town.

As is the case in some places nowadays, there was a female guard at the entrance ready to check our things. As she checked my bag, Klaus received a phone call so he was distracted when the guard opened up his own backpack to check it.

Until she pulled out a serious looking white paper bag.

Startling all of us, Klaus’s hand shot out and grabbed hers. Tightly.

“Let me call you right back”, he snapped into the phone and turned to properly speak with the woman.

“You can’t check this bag”, he said firmly.

Woman wasn’t having it.

“I have to check it, or you can’t enter.”

There was a growing line of people growing behind us who were looking impatient. 

“There’s something sensitive in here”, he continued. “I can’t let you open it up”.

I and the growing line instantly stopped being impatient and craned our necks to catch a glimpse of the sensitive object.

“Excuse me sir”, the guard said. “People want to enter. I can’t let you enter if I don’t check this bag”.

There was a look of growing panic in Klaus’s eyes. And increasing interest in us observant onlookers.

What have we here?

Klaus moved close to the woman-real close-and grabbed the bag from her.

“Look here”, he whispered. “Let me show you something”.

Oooooh. Big words!

He placed his hand in the bag and pressed something. The bag vibrated. I gasped loudly. Then I started to giggle.

Klaus was now getting desperate as he commiserated with the guard.

“It’s for my wife. It’s very sensitive. You CANNOT open this bag here. Look!”. He pressed the bag again as it vibrated. I heard a snicker from someone in the line. I was laughing so hard my sides were aching.

Klaus was starting to sweat. “You understand? Sensitive yes? Good”, he proclaimed hastily before quickly placing his ‘equipment’ back in the backpack.

The guard was now curious.

“I’m not letting you in until I’ve seen what’s in that bag. Why is it moving like that, eh? What is it? Why can’t I see it?!”

“Oh, Jesus!”, I cried, laughing hysterically. “Oh, sweet lord, this is hilarious. This laughter is going to kill me!”

With a loud curse, Klaus snapped, “We’re leaving”. His face was red as the colour itself. With good reason.

That’s one lucky wife

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