Skip to main content

Lost Luggage

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.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Olympic Memories

Twenty years ago this week, I - along with my family - was sitting in my house watching the Opening Ceremonies of the Summer Olympics.  I have always loved watching the Olympics, but this time was different.  This time, the Games were not on some far-away continent.  These Games were in my own hometown!  In fact, just the night before, I had been in Olympic Stadium - now Turner Field - watching the dress rehearsal for what I was watching on tv.  Now, twenty years later, some of my most vivid memories remain: The seemingly always-crowded highways of Atlanta were practically desolate, providing a seldom-seen sight. Meeting the Frenchman who wondered if I had ever heard of the book about the Civil War written by an Atlanta woman named Margaret Mitchell. The dress rehearsal crowd cheering wildly during the parade of nations for the entry of the flag from (the nation of) Georgia. Attending the women's gymnastics podium trials, watching the Magnificent 7 prepa...

The Centennial

          It has been almost 25 years . . .and I still remember it crystal clearly.  It was a Wednesday morning in September and I was on my way to school.  I was in the front passenger seat of my parents’ minivan while my father drove.  We lived exactly one mile from the school, so it was not a long trip.  Typically, we would use the brief drive to talk about what was happening at school that day, but not on this day.  On this particular morning, we sat in silence, listening to the radio and waiting... waiting for something to happen half a world away.           At that very moment, in Japan, a ballroom full of people was waiting, as well.  They watched as the man stepped up to the podium and began to speak.  As we arrived at the school came the moment that will live in infamy . . .in my hometown, at least.  My father stopped the car at the edge of the sch...

Playing Slots

             It is impossible to win on these machines, I thought.  Playing an airport slot machine is basically throwing away money, I was certain.  But, I had a long layover between flights and was looking for a way to pass the time.  I could see the neon glow of the Las Vegas Strip through the windows, but I did not have enough time to make that trip.  Despite my doubts, then, I sat down at a quarter machine near my gate and dropped in one dollar.  That was all that I would spend, I assured myself.  If nothing else, I would not be out much money.               I sat at the machine and, every few seconds, pressed the blinking button that sent the rolls spinning.  I would win. . . then lose. . . then win the small sum that I was playing.  When I looked and saw that I actually was ahead, I decided to q...