A few days ago I had to report my hat missing, a great loss.
I went to the press center and asked for a lost and found box.
But it is not that simple.
Don't think that you can just look into this ominous box, point to something and say: That's my hat!
So I had to describe exactly what my cap looks like.
"What color?
What shape?” the employee asked me.
"Dark red.
Normal cap,” I said.
She started laughing.
"A lot of journalists lose their caps." I wrote my cell phone number and description on a piece of paper, even where I had lost it: I think on the bus.
Directly in front of me, a colleague of a news agency had reported his cap missing.
I was pretty sure that at some point I would get a call: your cap has turned up.
Usually people carry things after me that I lose.
A few years ago I lost a mobile phone in the forest.
A woman called our home and said she found my cell phone.
She knew my grandfather from the gym and found the name Sippel in the cell phone's phone book.
I also once left an EC card in the train ticket machine, a woman contacted my bank;
she then called me.
Only a few weeks ago I lost my wallet, after a few meters I noticed it.
A passer-by had long since handed it in to the police – call from the police.
So far my cell phone has been silent, so I wanted to help fate a little.
I asked again about the cap and the box.
An employee then called up an image of a black cap on his computer;
in a transparent bag.
"Unfortunately not mine," I said.
It's the only hat they've found so far.
The only!
Even though so many journalists have lost their hats.
But I do not give up.
The call will definitely come.