Airport Schönefeld has reintroduced passport control and they’re doing a thorough job while at it. Today I arrived from London. After waiting in line for ten minutes (which feels like forever at an airport where the walk from plane to gate takes no longer than four minutes), I am asked to walk up to the booth. I hand over my passport with a little smile. It is not reciprocated. Instead, the officer looks at me very seriously and intently, staring deep into my eyes, then looks down at my document, then looks deep into my eyes again, then looks down, scribbles something, and looks up, straight into my eyes for a full three seconds. All this deep staring is making me giggle and before I know it I am throwing him coy glances like a deer with – what I imagine – very long lashes. I picture us going on dates where all we will do is stare at each other, seeing who can hold it out the longest. We will forget to order our food and ignore the red wine stain I made on his shirt when I added hand gestures to my giggling. Then our date is harshly interrupted when he smacks down my passport on the desk, nodding impatiently while directing his bored glance to the woman next in line. I am approved, but for a second I can’t help but to feel rejected.Airport Schönefeld has reintroduced passport control and they’re doing a thorough job while at it. Today I arrived from London. After waiting in line for ten minutes (which feels like forever at an airport where the walk from plane to gate takes no longer than four minutes), I am asked to walk up to the booth. I hand over my passport with a little smile. It is not reciprocated. Instead, the officer looks at me very seriously and intently, staring deep into my eyes, then looks down at my document, then looks deep into my eyes again, then looks down, scribbles something, and looks up, straight into my eyes for a full three seconds. All this deep staring is making me giggle and before I know it I am throwing him coy glances like a deer with – what I imagine – very long lashes. I picture us going on dates where all we will do is stare at each other, seeing who can hold it out the longest. We will forget to order our food and ignore the red wine stain I made on his shirt when I added hand gestures to my giggling. Then our date is harshly interrupted when he smacks down my passport on the desk, nodding impatiently while directing his bored glance to the woman next in line. I am approved, but for a second I can’t help but to feel rejected.