On the Belgian / French border, attracted us more than a little unwanted attention of border guards. We did sign a separate corridor and asked to get out of the car, then two Squirrelly men with torches and a comprehensive toolkit started taking the car apart looking for contraband, illegal drugs - on top list, I was sure. As I was watching all removable parts of my car being ripped - dashboard, door trim, seats and all (! Aha, the missing cheese) They took away my friend Sean in a private room. When he came out ten minutes later, he was not amused, and he gave me an indubitable summary of his experience with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand formed into a circle, and its index right unceremoniously thrust into it. Search of cavities. I swallowed as they came to take me for my turn.
In the play two uniformed men ordered me to strip and began to meticulously search every piece of clothing that I removed. I was not pressed for finger and none of them had even bought me a drink yet, so I undressed as slowly as possible from the top down, while contemplating seriously make a grab for their weapons fire, ready to die in the ensuing struggle rather than face the humility of a survey figure. When I finally removed my shoes, my socks smell brought tears to my eyes. This was not surprising given that we had been sleeping in the car for a week and the best of my recollection it was the first time my feet were exposed to the air for so long.
Embarrassed, I pushed my socks firmly in place in the ends of my shoes to hide the stench. A border guard hawk-eyed saw me doing this and assumed I was trying to hide something, so he grabbed my shoes to theatrical fashion and slowly pulled on socks. Before I could stop him, he plunged his hand deliberately up in the end of the sock just in front of his face. The smell hit hard and his face turned purple as he began to curse animation in a language I could not understand, and then he threw the sock in my face in disgust. The tirade went on for a good 30 seconds and I guess descriptively commenting on my personal hygiene and question my parentage, but I could not be sure. I squeezed hard as I imagined how he would wreak vengeance, but to my surprise, and a great measure of relief, the two guards started throwing my clothes and made me sign for the door. I guessed they had thought better to dive into my most sensitive areas after the meeting with my feet.
Outside, Sean was sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by auto parts and smoking a cigarette. He looked at me and laughed. Apparently it was a joke about the search of the cavity and had been trying to scare me. He had been successful and he was very happy. I was glad that I had decided to take a firearm.