Twice I ring but B. doesn’t open the door. I bang loudly against the door again and finally a distressed B. looks at me. „Its insane, he says, five minutes ago, the pen was still here, you see right upon my desk, but now he has disappeared as if he had never existed. „Good morning B., I say, how are you?“ „Good to see you too.“ I couldn’t have opened with a more provocative statement. B. looks at me with astonishment: „don’t you understand: my blue pen is missing.“ Your blue pen is missing I repeat and still not aware that is a situation close to a Shakespearean drama I add: „so what?“ B. storms back into the apartment and shouts: “ DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND MY BLUE PEN IS MISSING.“ Alright, B. I obviously missed some part of this story. What is it about your blue pen? READ ON, B. shouts further: IT IS NOT JUST AN ORDINARY PEN. IT IS MY LUCKY PEN. MY BELOVED PEN. MY PEN OF ALL PENS. I SIGNED MY FIRST CONTRACT WITH IT AND I INTEND TO SIGN MY LAST CONTRACT WITH IT.“ I must have looked stunned. Maybe because I sign with blue pens costing not much more than 50 Cents, but they always do their job very well. B. snorts like an angry bull in the arena. He looks even more distressed. Then we set out to search for the pen. It feels like a ground operation. I look in the fridge and behind the sofa cushions. I look in the fruit basket and in B.’s toiletries bag. I look in the drawers where B. stores his socks all neatly sorted according to their color. B. races up and down the floor, he screams and howls while turning the apartment upside down. One hour later the pen is still missing and we both are in a desperate state of mind. B. accuses me of not looking closely enough and I am annoyed with spending a Saturday morning searching for pen. I try to suggest that we stop this obviously not too successful undertaking to get some breakfast but I could hardly have said anything more provocative because B. now completely lets his frustration overcome everything. He accuses me of missing empathy and negligence as if I would be able to easily abandon a dog and not just doubting to initiate a search and rescue mission for a missing pen. MY BLUE PEN IS MISSING, yells B. AND YOU HAVE NOTHING ELSE IN YOUR MIND THAN BREAKFAST?“Well I say, I am hungry. MY BLUE PEN IS MISSING AND YOU ARE HUNGRY cries B. and I feel like the worst person on earth disturbing this emotional rollercoaster with my banal and unfortunately loudly rumbling stomach. MY BLUE PEN IS MISSING yells B. again. But I really, really do know this by now. B. I say I don’t believe we are looking for a pen right now, but for something else I don’t want to get involved with. B. shouts again and screams his MY BLUE PEN tirade, but I already heard enough of it and think that I am not the right one at all to search for a blue pen for hours just to prove a principle right. Then I close the door and leave.