Last night the Dutch consul in Milan threw a party for a couple of Dutch and Belgian authors who are in Milan for a small festival.
The party started at 20:00; I arrived at Malpensa at 20:20, so I was a little bit late.
The consul turned out to be a feisty but friendly lady who greeted me with the words: “We saved some food for you.”

Around two in the morning the consul called me. She said: “You left your bag here.” She appeared to be drunk.
“That’s not possible,” I said, “I didn’t carry a bag. It’s not my bag.”

“Is this Arnon?” she asked.

“It’s Arnon,” I said.

“You left your bag here, it must be important for you. There is a manuscript in the bag with your number on it.”

“It’s not my bag,” I said.

The next day it turned out to be the bag of my Italian editor.
The consul came to my talk at a bookstore in Milan.
I said to her: “You can always call me again at two in the morning.”

I like to give comfort to the people.