In December 2003, I thought my days of lost luggage were behind me. I had taken a number of flights with no baggage issues. I would arrive at my destination, and so would my suitcases. Given my history of luggage issues, it was a reassuring feeling to leave an airport, suitcase in hand. Then I flew to Seattle, Washington, for New Year’s Eve.
I arrived in Seattle on the afternoon of December 30. My luggage, however, did not arrive with me. I had experienced such delays on past flights, so I did not worry too much. I gave my contact information to an airline representative and left the airport, confident that I would have my belongings in a matter of hours. It turns out that I had wildly underestimated the time it would take to retrieve my baggage.
Late that night, when I still did not have my luggage, I made my first call to the airline. The representative assured me that it was an abnormal glitch and I would have my belongings shortly. The next morning, still no suitcases. My family and I spent New Year’s Eve day exploring Seattle. All the while, I was on the phone with the airline, trying to locate my baggage. As we wandered along the stalls at Pike Market, I was on the phone. While my family enjoyed the Seattle Aquarium, I stood in a corner of the exhibit hall, on the phone with the airline. We walked along the waterfront, my relatives laughing and joking with one another, me on the phone. Before the day was over, I spoke to airline representatives in Seattle, Atlanta, and even India. At one point, exasperated by the lack of success in my efforts, I enlisted one of my relatives to make a call on my behalf, hoping that they would have better luck than I. Through some effort, the caller was able to learn that my luggage had finally arrived in Seattle and had been dispatched to a baggage service.
My family and I returned home that evening to prepare for our New Year’s celebration. The evening passed and my belongings did not appear. By this time, I had been in Seattle for more nearly two full days. I was still wearing the same outfit I had worn the previous day and had been borrowing toiletries and other necessities from my relatives. I had decided, though, that if my luggage did not appear that evening, I would go shopping the next day.
After 2a.m., I fell asleep, my luggage still somewhere in Seattle. On January 1, I awoke to find my luggage leaning against the door, inside the apartment. It had been dropped off by the delivery service at 5a.m., forty one hours after my arrival in Seattle.
I arrived in Seattle on the afternoon of December 30. My luggage, however, did not arrive with me. I had experienced such delays on past flights, so I did not worry too much. I gave my contact information to an airline representative and left the airport, confident that I would have my belongings in a matter of hours. It turns out that I had wildly underestimated the time it would take to retrieve my baggage.
Late that night, when I still did not have my luggage, I made my first call to the airline. The representative assured me that it was an abnormal glitch and I would have my belongings shortly. The next morning, still no suitcases. My family and I spent New Year’s Eve day exploring Seattle. All the while, I was on the phone with the airline, trying to locate my baggage. As we wandered along the stalls at Pike Market, I was on the phone. While my family enjoyed the Seattle Aquarium, I stood in a corner of the exhibit hall, on the phone with the airline. We walked along the waterfront, my relatives laughing and joking with one another, me on the phone. Before the day was over, I spoke to airline representatives in Seattle, Atlanta, and even India. At one point, exasperated by the lack of success in my efforts, I enlisted one of my relatives to make a call on my behalf, hoping that they would have better luck than I. Through some effort, the caller was able to learn that my luggage had finally arrived in Seattle and had been dispatched to a baggage service.
My family and I returned home that evening to prepare for our New Year’s celebration. The evening passed and my belongings did not appear. By this time, I had been in Seattle for more nearly two full days. I was still wearing the same outfit I had worn the previous day and had been borrowing toiletries and other necessities from my relatives. I had decided, though, that if my luggage did not appear that evening, I would go shopping the next day.
After 2a.m., I fell asleep, my luggage still somewhere in Seattle. On January 1, I awoke to find my luggage leaning against the door, inside the apartment. It had been dropped off by the delivery service at 5a.m., forty one hours after my arrival in Seattle.
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