The stopping of the heart

Well folks, we are back where we started. We are at the Shelter hostel in Amsterdam where this trip began just 3 and 1/2 weeks ago. Now out of that month or so I have done very well and by this i mean i haven´t lost or broken anything of mine (which is my tendency, you can ask my mom). I had two gut-wrenching experiences yesterday. We ate at KFC in Prauge just before getting on our 15 hour bus ride to Amsterdam. My Nalgene had broken a few days ago so I bought another bottle (a very nice one). It occured to me while loading the bus that I had left it in the bathroom of KFC. So, Daniel and I dropped our stuff and sprinted back. Now we are all bundled up like Ralphie´s brother on the Christmas story, we are out of shape and it is freezing and everyone is looking at us funny. I realized how badly out of shape I am. But all was well I found the bottle, no biggie.
Well we are on the bus about 6 hours later approaching the German border and the driver comes on the PA saying passport (he said more than that but that was the only word I knew). I reach in my jacket pocket for mine and my heart drops when it isn´t there. I become frantic and so do the guys. I am standing up searching everywhere, even the people on the bus are helping. After about 7 minutes (feeling like eternity) a guy next to us found it......in my front jeans pocket. Don´t everybody look at me I´m a moron. I was imagining myself being dragged off in lock and stock to the German communist police. But it was nothing more than a serious case of me being an idiot. I think I almost wet my pants and so did the guys. They were joking about how they wouldn´t have gotten off the bus, they would have just wished me luck as the guards dragged me away.