I don’t fly often. And when I do, I like to trust that the airline I’m flying will deliver my suitcase safely to my final destination. And yet, for the second time in two months, the airlines have let me down, allowing my luggage to take its own sweet time to meet up with me.
The first time I lost luggage was in December. I searched for my suitcase at baggage claim longer than anyone should have to, and couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening.
I just stood there at the halted carousel, anxious and wishful, like dog on an invisible leash longing for a slow squirrel across the street. Am I at the right carousel? Where was my suitcase? Is it stuck back under those black plastic curtains? Did someone take it off for me to save me from straining?
It was only after the baggage clerk tapped me on the shoulder and urged me to head in to the customer service office did reality set in.
My crap had taken a detour.
Thankfully, I was staying with family, and after a quick but expensive late night trip to a 24-hour Walgreens, I had most of what I needed to tide me over until my bag arrived a day later.
So when I jetted south for a speedy-quick getaway to Miami this past weekend, I tried to do the smart thing and whittle down my belongings so they would fit in a carry-on bag.
You know, so I would have my suitcase with me at all times. So that it would actually make it where I was going.
Except, the airlines had other plans.
You see, US Airways waited until I was handing over my boarding pass at the gate to tell me that there was no room left in the overhead compartments, and that my bag would need to be checked.
No problem, I thought, it will just be waiting for me on the jet way when I arrive, right?
Wrong. Instead, the agent delivered a plastic smile and an answer that, in my agitated state, sounded something like “Your bag will be happily checked all the way to your final destination, so you don’t need to worry about lugging all your precious shit around.” As if they were doing me a favor.
And wouldn’t you know it, one third of the overhead compartments on the flight were empty.
What’s funny about this whole situation is that every time I asked one of the gate agents if my bag would make it, I was assured that it would be, without a doubt, when I arrived to my final destination. They actually joked that my bag would make it there before I would.
Which I guess is airline speak for You’re Screwed, lady.
To say I was pissed when my bag wasn’t waiting for me at 2am is putting things mildly.
But, as they say, why waste energy being negative? I should have been grateful I decided to even wear clothes that day so that I wouldn’t be butt naked in public!
So, this got me thinking. Thinking about surprising benefits to losing my luggage. Seven surprising benefits, as it were:
1. Being free of material goods makes me reevaluate what I truly need. It’s empowering, really, to know that I can get by on so little. And by little, I mean the tiny-ass toothbrush and toothpaste the airline gave me in their toiletry bag.
2. If I actually had a suitcase with saline solution in it, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to check out the unfamiliar neighborhood I was staying at in downtown Miami at three in the morning to desperately find a shady 7-11.
3. I’ve always wanted to give the natural make-up look a try. Now I could attempt it without cheating a bit.
4. A great test of the depth of my darling beloved’s love for me is re-wearing stinky jeans for the second day in a row.
5. Let’s be honest, that ragged Old Navy dress needed to be retired anyway.
6. Those shoes I packed would have given me blisters the size of Montana anyway. Besides, my trusty Dansko clogs let all those sexy young people in Miami know “Hey! I’m a Mom!”
7. Nothing says “Romantic Getaway” better than drying my hand-washed undies with a hairdryer in the hotel bathroom.
So, next you experience lost luggage, just remember that there’s a silver lining to the whole story.
And hopefully that silver lining isn’t the one in your suitcase.
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