Unfiltered Story #389251

(This happened before the Internet and before Schengen. I’m going on holiday abroad with a group of friends. Two of them are half-sisters, with different surnames and very different physically; another friend is very similar to the older sister, but is not related to any of them. Most of our IDs are bilingual as we live near the border with then-Yugoslavia, but we’re currently in another part of Italy and few police officers have ever seen them. I’m dreading the border check, and indeed…)
Border police: “May I see your ID, please.”
(We hand over our IDs, bunched together.
Border police: “What’s this? Is it fake?”
Friend: “No, officer. They just come like that in our county.”
Border police (looks in complete confusion at the IDs, then at our faces, then at the IDs again…): “I see there’s a minor in here. Are you travelling with a relative?”
Both half-sisters: “Yes.”
Border police (pointing at the very similar girls): “No, I meant you two.”
Very similar friends: “No.”
Border police: “Then why did you say you were?”
Older sister (pointing at the very different half-sister): “Because she’s travelling with me. I’m her sister.”
Border police (checking the IDs again): “But you have different surnames.”
(This goes on for a while. Another, obviously senior officer comes to see what’s holding the line.)
Senior officer: “Is there a problem?”
Border police: “Yeah, they have fake-looking IDs, and the girls are giving me attitude. First they say they’re not related, then they say they’re sisters…”
Senior officer (checking IDs): “Ah, I see.”
(I have a glimmer of hope at this point. Surely our ordeal is coming to an end…)
Senior officer: “Are you Yugoslavian?”
Me: (groans)
(In the end they let us go, after stalling the queue for more than 30 minutes. When the county at last offered the choice between bilingual and “regular” ID, we quickly “lost” our bilingual ones and asked for replacements…)