Suitcase
A tale
von Gyula Molnàr
Erschienen in: Arbeitsbuch 2018: Der Dinge Stand – Zeitgenössisches Figuren- und Objekttheater (06/2018)
Belt in the tray. Keys, change, jacket, shoes, hat, watch in the tray. Take the laptop from the suitcase, put the suitcase and the computer in separate trays. This is a ritual familiar to anyone who is subject to the formalities of the airport on a regular basis, but I still remember the first time when it all seemed like a scene to me, one that the upright citizen should only be familiar with from American films set in prisons. I walk through the metal detector in my socks and wait for my things. The smaller things are there right away, but my case is stuck in the x-ray tunnel. When it finally comes out it is redirected to a special channel that leads to a more discreet corner, stopping before a lady in uniform who gestures for me to come over.
“Do you speak English?”
“German would be better.”
“Does this suitcase belong to you?”
“Yes.”
“Could you open it please?” There is something slightly sterner than mere professionalism in her voice.
She is wearing surgical gloves but her hands move in rough gestures among my personal items. She churns everything up, but she still doesn’t seem to be...
