This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person is me. Ihad gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I wasa bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong. Iwent to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffeeand a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table. I want you topicture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear inyour mind. Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies.There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearinga business suit, carrying a briefcase. It didn't look like he was goingto do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across,picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.

Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are verybad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, oreducation that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylighthas just stolen your cookies. You know what would happen if this had beenSouth Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire,helicopters coming in, CNN, you know... But in the end, I did what anyred-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at thenewspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper,couldn't do anything, and thought, What am I going to do?

In the end I thought, Nothing for it, I'll just have to go forit, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet wasalready mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought,That settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later hedid it again. He took another cookie. Having not mentioned it the firsttime, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second timearound. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice..." I mean, it doesn'treally work.

We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the wholepacket, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like alifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally,when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away. Well, we exchangedmeaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief andsat back.

A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed backthe rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneaththe newspaper were my cookies. The thing I like particularly about thisstory is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wanderingaround for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had thesame exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line.

From a speech to Embedded Systems, 2001