For the convenience of our customers we keep this train a joke-free environment.

Germany really did her best to give me a warm welcome. My train passed through icy landscapes glistening in the afternoon sun, small towns greeted me with their Christmas decoration and even the Deutsche Bahn coffee was hot and strong. I leaned back and enjoyed the ride. After one hour two women took their seats in my compartment, and when you listened very carefully, you could hear the slightest suggestions of a "hello". Or was it even two "hellos"? Tiny little, shy hellos? I wasn't sure. Maybe it was just the squeaking of the door I had heard. But that's okay. I don't have to talk ALL the time. But for one reason or the other I like to establish some kind of contact with my fellow citizens when I share a room the size of a my bed with them. Silence. Never mind. I had the beautiful landscape and a good book to entertain me. The Intercity Express was zooming along. I was slowly drifting off. Hello dreamland... Hello jetlag... Then suddenly the train braked and slowed down. The change of speed sent my sweater flying from the hat rack. Then it dropped right in the middle of the table, as if it had fallen from the skies. Everybody looked up - and nobody said a word. And there it was. I could feel it coming. I would make a joke. I could see him, my sweet unborn joke, as he fluttered around my brain, teasing me, tickling me, waiting to be set free and fill the world with joy. So when I picked up my sweater I looked at the woman across from me with feigned indignation and said to her: "Did you just do that?" Then I gave her a big smile. Which she... did not return. Instead she snapped at me: "Of course not!" and turned her head away. Nothing feigned about her indignation! She had killed my lovely little joke in midair, and it fell dead to the floor, his shiny gossamer wings broken. I couldn't believe it. Could someone really be this literal? Could someone really have absolutely no sense of humor? Could somebody really feel so bad about herself that she expects people to accuse her of something? The answer is: yes! I really didn't want to think that this was "typical German". But I did. And that is probably "typical German" too.