On a breezy Tuesday evening at around eight o'clock, Marie and I line up to go up the Dome, Berlin's parliament - the Reichstag. Entry is free, so there is always a large crowd queuing up. It doesn't really matter, however, since the line moves relatively quickly, as they are able to fit large groups into the building.
As soon as we entered the building, we saw that there was a security check. It was not all that surprising, since in most government buildings, you must pass a certain level of security. We realize that they must be at least kind of serious with this security business, since when we took a silly face photo of us, a thin security guy through a glass wall tapped on it and shook his head, as he pointed at our camera. That gave me an urge to snap a picture of him. Marie convinced me otherwise. Anyway, everyone was lining up, and we slowly started to pass through the metal detector.
When we were just about to put our bags on the conveyor belt and pass through the metal detector, Marie just realized that she had scissors and a pair of tweezers in her bag, that had been earlier confiscated at the Canadian Embassy. That made me think of my small Swiss Army knife that I carry around on my purse. We realized that we should have taken out our "weapons" earlier, but oh well, we were already at the detector. We would have to leave them at the door with the security guards.
Marie and I pass through the metal detector without beeping, but we know we will get asked about our bags. Miraculously, they hand back my bag (containing the purse which carried my knife) without any comments. Strange. Marie's bag, however, they take off of the conveyor belt and look at her with a stern eye. The security guards exchange looks with each other. Uh oh.
The first security guard looks at her seriously and demands, "Spray."
He points to her bag, motioning her to open it and says "Spray" again. He looks at the other security guars with the look of: she may be carrying a certain kind of bomb.
Marie is confused. She unzips one of the pockets and uncertainly takes out a tube of Deodorant spray. Do they mean this?
They take it from her, examine it, shrug, and hand it back to her. They give her back her bag, and her and I are off on our merry way.
Well, then! We can carry knives, scissors, and tweezers, but deodorant sprays -- now, ladies and gentlemen, who knows what that can contain! We couldn't stop laughing about her deodorant, so we took a picture of her proudly holding it inside the Dome.
So, word to the wise -- Do your hygiene at home and leave all deodorant bombs at home. Who knows the commotion you may cause.