Kafka's spirit is still alive and kicking.
I received a letter from the disctrict court saying that I was sent some money (around $80) for some stocks I bought about 10 years ago and forgot about a long time ago. "Money for stocks" in this context means something very different from what you probably think, but let's put that aside. I got a letter that court has my $80 because the company which sent it to me didn't have my current mailing address. The first (but not last) irony was that this court letter arrived at my current mailing address. But that's nitpicking.
OK. I went to the local courthouse. I was told to go to door 21. But first, I had to empty my pockets, leave my "Alien Vs. Predator" pocket knife at the desk and pass the metal detector. I went to door 21 and they told me that I have to go to the adjacent building.
I went back to the ground floor, got my pocket knife back and went to the adjacent building. There I had to empty my pockets again (and bag and and small bag etc...) and I was told to go to door 309 to see Mrs. X. And they let me keep my AvP pocket knife!
I went to door 309. It was locked. I knocked. Nothing. Not a single word written anywhere on the door. Only the number. I waited for a while. Random woman walked by and told me that Mrs. X is probably on vacation and I should ask Mrs. Y in door 301.
I went to door 301. Mrs. Y was present and very nice. She told me that Mrs. X is indeed on vacation but Mrs. Z could could also help me. I should find her at 231.
I thanked the nice lady and went back to the second floor. It didn't take long to go through the whole floor and find out that the doors on this floor are numbered from 201 to 212. I checked if the AvP knife is still in my pocket. Yes, it was.
I went back to the third floor and informed the nice lady at 301 that there is no door 231. I was told that there has to be door 231 (I was somehow reminded of "there is no spoon" scene in Matrix).
After a bit of silly dialogue, the kind lady showed me exactly where door 231 is. There was big number "209" written on it. The knife was still ready.
I knocked and went inside where I met another nice lady, Mrs. Z. I showed her the court letter and my problems were solved.
Well, almost. I was told that I have to write them a letter saying "Hello, my name is Fuka, I live at Rumunska street and I want my $80, please send it to me". I asked if I could by any chance write those two lines of text right there on the spot and was told that's out of the question because I have to mail it to them as a registered letter.
Then I turned into a cockroach.